#and they finally have an answer for the family

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

The cut that always bleed✧.* - what was i made for?

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical errors that this story may have.

Y/n L/n was a far cry from Y/n Wayne. Despite both last names, each carrying the weight of a turbulent history, "L/n" felt surprisingly lighter. Both names reminded you of the haunting shadows cast by your mother and father, yet they bore different emotional tolls. As you stood before the mirror, a somber reflection gazing back, you pondered on the 13 years—a whole decade and three more—that seemed squandered on people who couldn't hold your gaze for more than fleeting moments.

Of course, the toll it took on your emotional health was immense, but there was nothing you could do about it. You knew that no matter what you did, you could never capture their attention, not even for a moment. By the age of six, you took up martial arts, hoping your family would be proud of you for sharing their passion. But all you received was a pat on the shoulder from Dick when you won a gold medal.

At ten, you delved into video games, hoping to bond with Tim. You spent four days learning all the rules and knowledge about the game, and two whole weeks mastering it. But when you finally mustered the courage to ask Tim to play with you, he stared at you with bored eyes, barely registering your presence. After twelve minutes of rambling about the game, he sighed, pinched his eyes, and said, "I can't. I'm busy, okay?" before leaving your small room. The video game stayed in a box, forgotten and dirty, for thirteen years, a testament to the same treatment you received over and over.

You took every opportunity, every chance to learn something they were talented in, hoping to catch a glimpse of love in their eyes. But all you got were bored, empty stares. Every hobby you had was dedicated to them, except for one: ballet. The art of dancing, with its sharp and strict moves, dancing on your tiptoes, chin up, and a graceful smile on your face. Nothing could take this away from you, not even Cassandra, who was the apple of her family's eyes as she danced on stage. You loved dancing; it filled your heart with joy and bliss. You believed this was the one thing they could never take from you. That's what you thought.

Ballet demanded strict poise and discipline, watching every bite you took and every drink you swallowed. Your mother was a beautiful woman, enchanting enough to enthrall your father. Her eyes could charm thousands of men and bend their morals to her desire. She was like a siren, captivating men with her ethereal beauty. Your father was no different, dazzling people with his money, perfect white teeth, and undeniable allure. He made heads turn and people giggle at his mere presence. So why did you feel as if you were nothing like them? Created by a goddess and a god, yet you turned out to be so unsightly that your mother sneered and threw you out of her arms, forcing you into the embrace of an unknown man.

You panted lightly, staring at your features in the mirror. Why? Why? Why? Why are you like this? Why can't you feel beautiful? Why can't you be beautiful? Why can't you be a sight for sore eyes like the men and women around you? Their features blended so well with their faces, but you? You felt like a pig with makeup on. You saw beauty in everyone but never in yourself.

Your performance is in about a few more days and you haven't eaten anything healthy for the past 3 days, you're starved, you're pressured, and your family hasn't even answered your text in which you, inviting them to please come watch your performance. Dragging your body to walk home, Alfred unfortunately can't drive you home as he is too busy with work (helping your family with their nightly activities) you hiss as the cold wind blew against your fresh scars-the result of you scratching your face with your nails due to resentment for yourself because of the question in the back of your mind: “why can't you just be good enough?”

The harsh glare of your ballet dance teacher only added more pressure, intensifying the burden on your weak shoulders. You carried the lingering thought that your family didn't care about you and the nagging feeling that you would never be good enough for them. The performance was just a few days away, and you hadn't eaten anything healthy for the past three days. You were starved, pressured, and desperately longing for your family's support. Yet, your texts inviting them to watch your performance went unanswered.

Dragging your exhausted body home, you felt a deep sense of despair. Alfred, who usually drove you home, was too busy with work, assisting your family with their nightly activities. As you walked, the cold wind bit into your fresh scars, the result of scratching your face with your nails out of self-loathing. The question haunted you: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

Your footsteps echoed in the empty streets, each step a reminder of your solitude. The streetlights cast long shadows, mirroring the darkness that seemed to envelop your soul. You could hear the distant laughter of families and friends enjoying their evenings, a stark contrast to the silence that filled your life.

But even though you're killing me

Arriving home, you unlocked the door with trembling hands. The house was quiet, as it always was when you were alone. The once warm and inviting living room now felt cold and unwelcoming. You dropped your bag and collapsed onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks, a release of the pent-up frustration and sadness. Gasping for breath as you dragged your shivering legs to your cold, small bed room as you dropped your exhausted form to your squeaking bed, staining your pillows with your tears.

I need you like the air I breathe

In your heart, you still held onto a sliver of hope that your family would show up to your performance. You envisioned them in the audience, watching with pride as you executed every move with precision and grace. But reality was harsh, and you knew deep down that their absence would cut deeper than any physical wound. But you needed them. They were the salt to your wounds yet you still crave for their attention. It's not too late right?

Please.

You spent the next few days in a haze, practicing relentlessly for the upcoming performance. Every pirouette, every leap, and every graceful move was tainted by the thought of your family's indifference. You pushed your body to the limit, hoping that the pain would numb the emotional agony. Again, again, again– again y/n! You need to perfect this! This could be the chance for you to prove to them that you're worthy of their attention! That you belong in this family just as much as they do! You can't give up. Stop trembling. Stop acting so weak. If you don't stop acting like a child then maybe they'll eventually throw you out of the house too.

Please

The day of the performance arrived, and you stood backstage, nervously adjusting your costume. Your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked through the curtains, scanning the audience for familiar faces. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that your family was not coming. Your lips trembling, your brain can't fathom the idea of them not coming to this performance—of course you'd expect y/n to be unsurprised by this behavior but it's not fair! You worked so hard for this only for them to answer you with nothing but silence.

I need you more than me

You destroyed yourself for this; for them! You worked every bone in your body and stretched every limb of yours, starved yourself for days, just for them to dismiss your one request to just be there. You just wanted that family where they were all so supportive of you, they all loved and adored you. The worst part is they are just not to you. And you had to learn that the hard way.

I need you more than anything

Summoning every ounce of strength, you stepped onto the stage. The spotlight shone brightly, and for a moment, you felt a surge of confidence. The music began, and you moved with the grace and elegance you had practiced so hard to perfect. Each step was a testament to your dedication, a silent plea for recognition and love. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as a feeling of pain and happiness surged through your chest.

As you danced, the audience watched in awe. To them, you were a vision of beauty and talent. But inside, you felt empty. Every jump, every turn, and every sway of your limb was dedicated to them. With trembling lips you swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the pain in your chest as you play your part of the performance. The applause at the end of your performance was hollow, a reminder that the ones you longed to impress were not there to see it. Backstage, you received praise from your fellow dancers and instructors, but it did little to lift your spirits. You longed for a simple word of encouragement, a sign that your family cared. Instead, you were met with silence. You smiled faintly at them thanking them and exchanging a few compliments here and there. At this moment you couldn't feel anything. You were numb from all the pain you have suffered from this family.

Please, please

That night, as you lay in bed, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts of inadequacy. The question echoed once more: "Why can't you just be good enough?"

"Those days are over," you say to yourself as you pack your bags and place your belongings into boxes. You've grown, and after 13 years in the manor begging for scraps of their attention, you've realized that what you want will never become reality. It took you a whole decade and three more years to come to this realization. You shake your head softly and smile sadly. What were you thinking? Of course, they wouldn't care about you. Your normalcy and mediocrity never appealed to them, and you’ve decided those days are finally over. It was time to move out and discover what you were truly meant for.

"What was I made for?"

you ask yourself. This question feels so much better than constantly wondering, "Will they finally look at me?" You take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of your new home. You breathe in and out, closing your eyes for a moment. This was it. You had made it. Slowly, you open your eyes and look at the people surrounding you, those who truly cared for you and saw you through your scars of insecurity, your perfect little hobbies, and your flawed personality. To them, you weren't Y/n Wayne, child of a billionaire, nor Y/n L/n, child of a prostitute. You were just Y/n, who tried so hard, failed, but ultimately succeeded.

The manor has been noticeably quiet for the past few days. The silence weighting discomfort as if something was wrong–as if something was missing. It was surprisingly first noticed by none other than Richard Grayson himself. The first Robin of Batman, the irreplaceable side kick, the first son of Bruce Wayne, and the darling of the crowd whom everyone loves and adore. As he walked through the large halls of the home he grew up in, he felt something was out of place. Like something wasn't in place or rather something was missing. It took him some time to figure it out as the clock ticks

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Aha! He's got it! It was because there wasn't any classic orchestral music playing through the thick walls of the manor. The soft music of pyotr tchaikovsky wasn't heard anywhere around the corners of the walls. That's strange. The sweet melody of violins and cellos wasn't found in any room at all. He didn't know why but it bugged him. He sighs as he disregards it, nevermind he said, must be Alfred playing his favorite old songs. He walks around the manor to look for his siblings and father and somehow stumbled upon this.. Unknown and empty small room. “wow this is.. Something” he muttered under his breath. He inspected the room and saw multiple trophies decorating the room. It was impressive how someone can achieve this many gold medals and such. His gaze traveled across the room and saw a box full of webs and dust, and got interested as he opened it to see an old video game and thought that it must have been Tim's before he decided to throw it away out of boredom. With no more much to do he slid through the doors and whistled his way out of the room, unaware of how many memories a person created in that very same room withering away.

Tim and Damian recognized the absence of humming and the pattern of footsteps that used to echo around the house from an unknown room. The silence made them uncomfortable. They had grown so accustomed to the faint noise that it had somehow brought them comfort. The melodic lullaby of humming painted a serene picture of paradise, lulling them easily to sleep—a struggle they had faced all their lives as vigilantes, or in Damian's case, as an assassin. Their heartbeats aligned with the rhythm of the faint noise.

For Tim, it was a sweet form of salvation from the demons that haunted his nights and kept him from a good night's sleep. For Damian, it was the comfort he never knew, a stark contrast to the heavy stare of his grandfather and the weight of expectations placed on his shoulders by his mother's watchful gaze.

Jason couldn't care less about what happens around that manor. He hated that place. It made him rethink all the moments he wished he could take back. Jason Todd is a hateful man but a good soldier. He destroys in order to protect. He kills in order to let another live. A morally gray person. In his eyes he was what Bruce wayne–Batman couldn't be. But even a man who goes out at night to protect needs a break. So when he came to the manor and went straight to the library and saw that the usual piled up classic books weren't to be seen at their usual spot he found it.. Unsettling per say. The books written by Jane Austen that were filled with marked pages, sticky notes, and annotations not found in the main table of the room were strange to him. He didn't even know who did it but it made him feel like he was home. The silly doodles and random words written on the sticky notes, careful not to dirty the book, made him chuckle every time he saw it; so where was it now?

Cassandra was into ballet. She grew up silenced, observing others, forever cautious. as to why she expresses herself through dancing: ballet. A moment where she can breathe and let go. Where she can freely pour her heart into dancing. Every point, every movement, she releases her unsaid emotions. She was raised that way. Except then she was thought to swallow her words and release her pent up emotions into bad things instead of gracefully dancing. She was completely in love with dancing. Whenever she went to collect her ballet shoes there's always an extra bandage, extra shoes played on the floor. She never knew why and she never questioned it. Just ignored it. But now she somehow froze at her spot to see nothing but her shoes and not next to the light pink ones that had a small bow to compliment its design. Ever so stunning; the person who wears it must have been the same kind of persona-wait.. Person? There's another one.. Oh.

Bruce Wayne was a busy man. By day, he handled his company, Wayne Enterprises. His days were filled with paperwork, meetings, and managing marketing strategies. But by night, he never slept. No, he donned the mantle of Batman, the prince of Gotham City, the guardian of Lady Gotham. He didn't have time for anything he deemed unworthy of his attention. He noticed every tiny mistake, be it at work or on the streets of Gotham. At work, he spotted grammatical errors and unstraightened lines of decorative mugs. As Batman, he detected the slightest hint of lies in a criminal's eyes. So, yes, he noticed that something—or rather, someone—from the manor was missing.

As dick whistled his way out of the room unable to find his family members, he decided to go to the batcave and have a little fun while being alone. He did all things he could think of. Look for more cases to solve, dig some stuff out criminal records, blah blah blah.. Then he decided to check the manor's CCTV.

As dick was checking the cctv's of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage-about 2 weeks ago of a person..? Packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible.. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates, it's impossible. Unless..

Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled and his eyes dilated..

It can't be.

You.. Y-..y/n? What were you doing? Where are you going? He bit his lips harshly as he watched the footage like a hawk. His hands came to fidget with his hair. Was that really you? You look so grown.. Several thoughts ran through his mind as he pondered on what you were doing. After a matter of time he somehow remembers. Oh yeah! Your contact number. His hands trembling, in a hurry he pressed your name in his phone and.. Shoot. His eyes widened at the several missed calls and texts from you. Not even a single response from him. Come to think of it, when was the last time he talked to you? Like, really talked to you? He quickly text you “heyy baby birdddd I miss you! Let's hang out right now!” while biting his thumb as he bounced his thighs up and down from anticipation. And then suddenly.. He remembers! The room! It was yours! Before he even knew it, he was quick on his feet and ran like a mad man towards your room. He panted slightly at the face of your door and harshly opened your room unaware of his strength. He went through every corner of your room. He explored every side of your room to find something-anything that can give him even a spoil of information about you. And that was when he found a tiny pink notebook. He chuckled softly, out of breath, hair messed up like a mad man but dick didn't care, no because he finally found your one and only diary! Filled with bows and pink glitters.. Hah..you were so cute. He went through your diary, invading your privacy and saw all of the things you've said. The way you praised him, the way you adored your family, your little adventures, your previous ballet performances (you did ballet? Wow, you're just so talented.. Oh his little bird.) he suddenly heard a high pitched ping! And scrambled to his phone as he expected a response from you but instead all he was met with was “y/n has blocked you”.

What..? Why? Didn't you want to spend time with your precious big brother? His blood shot eyes twitched and sweat ran down from his face. The suddenly a deep voice said:

“dick? What's going on here?”

Note: as promised! Here is the chapter yall asked forrr tell me what you guys think!

[fadesense]

at some point there was HORSE and TARQUIN mentioned, and @teddywesworl hot potatoed an epic horse to me to put tarquin on. 🤝

[akanemnon]

Wait wait wait, if Frisk and Kris are each half of Chara’s soul, does that mean they each retain different aspects of Chara’s personality?

If so, I’m guessing Frisk got Chara’s love of monsters, violent numbness, and deep compassion. And Kris got Chara’s hatred of humanity, love for their family, and social awkwardness.

In my personal headcanons, it’s pretty much the same thing but Kris is the whole, and Chara and Frisk are the halves. It’s funny that someone else agrees that “Kris and Frisk/Chara are the same person” or “Kris, Frisk, and Chara are unrelated” is too simple for my taste, because I actually made my headcanons before I even read Twin Ruens.

Btw, thank you SO MUCH! The work you put into these comics is INSANE! AND FINALLY SOME GOOD KFC GANG RECOGNITION! Your art, designs, and dedication is truly inspiring! Honestly, a lot of my current art style came from your early comics. Keep it up! Us Twin Runes fans will stick with you no matter what! And if you ever want to take a break, please do so, pumping out long comics on so many platforms must be exhausting.

Please exuse my fanenbying and have a great 2025! ^^

In the case of Twin Runes saying "they are the same people" or "they are unrelated" really ARE too simple answers.

You are right, both Kris and Frisk have one half of Chara's soul. Not just a red soul. It IS, in fact, Chara's. The comic HEAVILY hints towards it, which is why I'm so openly talking about it. The only thing I can't talk about yet is the HOW and WHY. You goys gotta sit tight for that.

But them both having one half of Chara's soul is the reason why only they were able to see them. And it's the reason why Chara points out that the resonance of their souls felt familiar.

They've been dead for so long that they can't recognize their own soul anymore. Also because there is CLEARLY something else in Kris and Frisk to replace the missing other piece.

But yes, both Kris and Frisk do natually take on some of Chara's traits because of that. Kris is more or less a reflection of how Chara could have turned out like if they had been raised by the Dreemurrs.

Well... that's not 100% true because Kris (and Frisk) are still their own people. It's a nature vs. nurture sorta thing. Personality and behavior wise they're ALL very different from one another.

Again, this line right here is SUPER IMPORTANT.

The correct way to put it is "Kris and Frisk are not Chara, but Chara is a part of them."

[joonsytip]

Left for Ruins || Seungcheol [Teaser]

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Crime, Smut, Fluff, Office Worker Husband!Seungcheol, Investigative Journalist Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Being an investigative journalist, you would do anything to unravel the truth, even if it means getting married to the timid office worker Choi Seungcheol, who was in fact the best friend of your brother who went missing seven years ago.

Warnings: Mentions of all sorts of criminal activities, reader and Seungcheol are two people with contrasting personalities, exploitation, gaslighting, heavy themes involving syndicate etc.

Thanks to @diamonddaze01 for the amazing banner! ♡

Comment or send an ask if you wanna be tagged.

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

“I want you to marry me.”

Seungcheol is currently cornered, shying away from the proximity, unable to meet eyes even.

“W-Why do you want me to marry you?”, he manages to utter, body leaning back in reflex as you close in further.

All he gets from you is a very known cunning smile.

As you watch him like he's a prey, he pleads with you to give him some space.

“You're in your thirties, don't have a partner, got a stable job and a clean image. Don't you think we'd look good together?”, your hands take off his glasses, making him look into your eyes, “You are handsome and I've known you for as long as I can remember.”

Seungcheol finds it hard to maintain eye contact. Always soft spoken, he hesitates to ask you questions.

He needs time, he needs a push. You know it all and you know him all too well.

As expected, his hands reach yours to get back his glasses. He gently takes it and puts it back on. His eyes meet yours at his own will, for the first time that night.

“I’m practically blind without my glasses.”, he says softly, “Can I ask you some questions? Will you please answer them? And I have a lot to ask.”

You find it amusing, the way he awaits your response. If you deny, you're sure no questions will be asked. You're confident that you'd be able to coax him into marrying you with no such difficulties anyways.

You're known to be ruthless. You don't bat an eye before deceiving people, lies naturally flow out of your mouth.

When you give a nod, he asks you to take a seat, mainly for himself so you could back off and he could finally breathe.

“You've known me for years, Y/N. And I'm sure you're not asking me to marry you because you have feelings for me. Tell me the truth and I'll consider it.”

Your eyes glint dangerously but it's gone suddenly.

Your face falls, melancholia starts pouring into the atmosphere.

“I’ll be honest.”, you say, sounding sincere, “You were closest to my brother. It's been seven years since I saw him. I heard time heals but for me it's making things worse. I still can't believe that a good person like Daon would disappear overnight.”

Seungcheol takes the seat beside you, his heart aching in the memories of his best friend.

Your gaze drops at your lap, letting the sudden wave of tears stream down your face. It's a wound, unattended, always fresh.

With a croak in your voice you continue, “My brother trusted you the most and for me, I know that you've always tried to be a shelter, looking over as a guardian figure.”

Seungcheol’s demeanor is similar to yours, as he says, “When Daon disappeared, I just couldn't forgive myself. It always occurred to me that I should have searched more, did I give up too early? What if he's still waiting for me? I'll always live with this guilt.”

You both sit in silence.

“We could never repay you, what you did for us back then is something not even family members do.”, you feel Seungcheol go stiff when you place your hand on top of his, “My mom is nagging me to get married and I realised I trust you a lot. That if I gotta do this, I'd rather do it with you. I feel safe around you, Cheol.”

His ears are turning red, mouth going dry. His entire body screams for help.

You study him carefully, lips twitching as he excuses himself out of his home office for a moment.

As soon as he's out, you're off your seat.

“You're insane, Y/N.”, you could sense the disbelief in the voice coming from the earpiece, “You should be an actress.”

“Shut up, Jeonghan.”, you say through gritted teeth, “I have never let my hair down for this long, it's starting to irritate me. My ears are itching.”, you fix your hair so it covers the device in your ear.

Your mouth launches a string of complaints while your hands place work effortlessly to plant bugs over several places.

“The guy seems like a decent person. Throwing a marriage proposal just to wiretap his office seems a bit too much.”, Jeonghan keeps on speaking through the earpiece, "What if he agrees to the marriage, how are you so sure he won't?

You pay no attention to his rambles, skimming through the papers and files, eyes often darting to the door.

“Make sure the devices are working fine. I placed only one camera though, no place to hide others.”, your brows furrow as you go through the files, “Nothing useful here. Maybe I could get something in the drawers.”

But the sounds of footsteps approaching makes you halt.

Seungcheol on entering back notices you in the same stance as when he leaves you.

He carefully walks towards you, almost guilty when he kneels in front of you, “I appreciate that you think so highly of me but we're exactly opposite in terms of personality and aspirations. We won't work out. I'm sorry, Y/N but I can't marry you.”

You hear Jeonghan sighing in relief.

“Woah, he really didn't take the bait.”, you hear him mumbling, “We're done here. It's time for you to leave.”

Jeonghan is about to speak again but he hears sobs.

Seungcheol eyes you in horror as he watches you sob hysterically. Your eyes are red, nose flaring.

“Why don't you understand, Cheol?”, you choke, struggling to speak but do nonetheless, “Do I really need to spell it out for you!!”

Jeonghan shrieks on the other side, this wasn't on the card.

“Calm down Y/N.”, Seungcheol hesitantly holds your hands.

A second later he's about to turn to grab water for you but freezes.

“I like you, Choi Seungcheol! I really like you, a lot.”

Seungcheol's shaky hands somehow manage to grab your face, his eyes searching for yours, “Do you mean it?”

You scoff internally.

“Do I look like I'm joking?”, you say wiping your tears.

He observes you for a moment then you're being pulled into his embrace. Your lips curl up instantly.

Good for you, your tears flow as swiftly as your lies.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Girl I have so many questions about your story it’s actually ridiculous!

(I don’t want to overwhelm you though so imma hold back)

is reader becoming a snake person a reference to snakes preying on bats and birds?( and will the snake being joker’s be important?)

Is Tiffany going to have to put effort into pretending she’s the ✨perfect sister✨ now that reader obviously isn’t going to do jack for them anymore? (Because ungrateful families don’t deserve muffins 😒)

Is reader going to be a hero or villain, or maybe something in between?

will we be able to get an idea of why the batfam treats reader like they’re some sort of pest?( you’d think they’d be more careful since reader could easily expose their identities if they thought about it 😒😒)

and finally.

Tim had a very…different…reaction to reader ‘framing’ Tiffany- is that important?

-🚚

yay ok this is my first like real ask! Yall have been making me so so happy with all the love! It really encourages me! And don't worry about overwhelming me! I can take it :) i'm answering this and then signing off to go to bed because I have the worst flu ever.

Ok so yes! Reader becoming a snake-meta-person does have to do with snakes preying on birds, honestly that was a little easter egg for funsies. Im glad you caught it! reader's gonna eat those hoes up !!!!!!! ( and they'll lock her up right after)

Tiffany will for sure try to imitate reader at first but that will eventually lead to her downfall! she can only keep it up for 6 months and then she'll be discovered. she can't imitate the genuine love and care reader puts into these things so they'll always be off no matter how much she tries. the batfam will end up realizing what they lost and do whatever it takes to get it back.

And yes, the snake being the Joker's will be important bc he's the joker and is so fucking insane that even his snake has to be special! all powers have consequences and these will be heavy. it will put reader through it, but will really shape them as a person.

Im leaning more toward reader being a hero??? but with the snake being literally radioactive it might be a kinda venom dynamic. im still not too sure tbh. with all the angst and neglect and the troubles of being a teen, she might be a bit of an anti-hero! she might pull a jason (ironic, i know) and go around killing all the villians!

the thing about the batfam, is that they don't even realize what they're doing to the reader. they literally see her as irrelevant so they don't notice their neglect or how much it affects reader. she's not even on their minds enough to be perceived as a threat. the only ones purposefully being mean are Damian and Jason, Damian because he sees reader as less than/ a threat and Jason because he is trying to push the reader out his life and not 'taint' her innocence.

Tim's reaction is different because he's suspicious. he thinks he would've noticed if reader was capable of doing something so sneaky and underhanded. he's the only one who is suspicious because he simply doesn't think she's smart enough to do this. he's gonna be the first to see Tiff's true colors.

Goodnight yall!!! i'll be back tmrw morning! keep sending more asks! I take requests so if you have any ideas you want me to write just send them in! I'll yandere platonic or romanitc. SEND THEM IN!!!!!!!!

[helen-with-an-a]

beautiful girl:

can we get domestic Ale and Amor. Like waking up or day off? also do Ale and Amor ever try to hide their relationship? (Like when it’s new)

love the building of this world/series. Thank you for your work and care with it.

Ok ok, so I've split this ask into 2 so here is the answer to the question:

Do Ale and Amor ever try to hide their relationship?

Around their friends, it was basically impossible to hide it. Ale was just so in love from the moment she set eyes on Amor that everyone knew before they even got together. Amor was new, so the team didn't really understand what Amor In Love looked like, but to Ingrid and Frido, it was so obvious that Amor was head over heels for someone on the team (even if they didn't officially know who)

The day after their first official date, they just kept blushing and smiling at each other, and Mapí just walked straight in and was like ew, get a room.

They did hide it from their family for a little bit. Alexia mentioned to her family that she was seeing someone and she really liked them but she wanted to see where it went before she introduced them to Eli and Alba officially.

For Amor, it was easier to get away with it since she's in Spain and her family isn't, but she was open with telling her family (particularly her parents) that she was in a relationship and was hoping it would last, etc.

Amor officially met Eli and Alba after the UWCL semi-final home leg (via Facetime because covid) and met them in person (in Eli's back garden - again covid) a few days before Barça flew out to Gothenburg for the UWCL final.

Ale met Amor's parents on Facetime after the UWCL final and officially met them in person during Christmas 2021 when Amor's family finally came out to Barcelona to see her over the holidays. Amor's family was instantly in love with our awkward Ale, and they didn't even have to do the "if you hurt her" speech because it was just so bloody obvious that Ale would do anything for Amor, and Amor was just as in love.

On social media, they did a mix of soft and hard launch. There was a lot of post-match footage that showed Ale and Amor touching and hugging, but it was definitely a case of 'Spanish or dating?' (for the non-Spanish fans anyway). They definitely teased fans on Instagram and in their stories. They officially hard launched by posting a photo of them kissing behind the UWCL trophy.

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo - Ending 5: "One of Us"

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: This is similar to ending 2, but I like how it turned out

The moon was high in the sky by the time you were ready to enter the black panther and white tiger exhibit. You walked along the path to the enclosure, whistling cheerfully to yourself. As you pushed open the exhibit door, your whistle trailed off into silence.

All four halflings stood in front of you, looking grim. Even Malleus, who it usually took a small hike to visit, was present. Silver and Sebek avoided eye contact, but Lilia and Malleus stared at you in silence.

“Are you guys alright?” you asked, heart sinking at their expressions.

Lilia exchanged a look with Malleus before the smaller of the two stepped forward. He looked up at you with sad eyes and you were briefly reminded of a puppy wanting to have some of your food.

“Lilia, what’s going on?” you stepped forward, closing the enclosure door behind you.

Lilia shook his head, “It’s… bad news.”

You felt yourself trembling. You cared about the halflings so much, to see them so upset made you feel nearly heartbroken.

“The zoo,” Lilia said, so softly you had to lean in to hear him, “is planning to send us away.”

His words hit you like a train. You opened your mouth but no sound came out. “Send you away?” you finally managed to ask, “Why?”

“They think we’re too boring,” Lilia whispered, “We overheard the top humans talking. They say our exhibit is expensive to maintain when no one visits us. They plan to separate us and send us to different zoos across the world.”

“No! They can’t do that!” you gasped, “You’re like a family! They can’t just tear you apart!”

“They can,” Malleus finally spoke up, his furry ears pressed flat to his head, “And they will. Unless…”

“Unless what?” you asked, practically begging for an answer.

“You can help us,” Lilia said quickly, hope shining in his eyes.

You shook your head, “I don’t see how. I’m just a researcher. Mr. Crowley wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You’ve cared for us, made this place feel better than home. That has to mean something,” Silver spoke up.

Malleus stepped closer, casting a shadow over you. His emerald eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, “We don’t want to be sent away. We don’t want to lose you.”

Sebek nodded, “We’ll do whatever it takes to stay together, but we need you on our side.”

“I’ll… I’ll talk to Mr. Crowley,” you replied, “I’ll try to convince him to-”

Lilia interrupted you, shaking his head, “Talking won’t work. He’s made up his mind.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” you asked in slight frustration.

Lilia’s eyes met yours, “You’re one of us… you understand us more than any keeper ever has. Surely you could sacrifice your humanity to tie together our family? That’s what the visitors really want to see.”

“One of you?” you echoed, “I’m human, I can’t-”

“Then let me make you one of us,” Malleus interrupted calmly, “My horns have magic, I can turn you into one of us easily.”

Lilia’s hand rested on your cheek, “We can’t survive without you, little one. Stay here, with us and let us keep you safe.”

“You’re sure this would save you all?” your voice came out as a whisper, but they all heard it clearly. One by one, they nodded.

Malleus’s horns began to glow as green as his eyes.

—----------------------------

“Look, Mom, look!” a little girl pointed down at you, “They’re so cute!”

Self-consciously, you drew your tail in, catching the two little white tiger cubs and bringing them closer to you. The twin toddlers giggled and hugged you, gently cuddling against the black panther baby cradled in your arms. 

Your belly was large- you’d be giving birth in a month from now. Whether they would be white tiger halflings or panthers would be a surprise for all of you. The zoo visitors put in votes for their guesses.

Like they’d hoped, the white tiger and black panther exhibit was popular- in fact, it was probably the most popular now that you had little cubs tottering around and looking cute. 

But at what cost?

Silver gently picked up a cub in each arm, “Give Mommy some rest.”

You blinked gratefully at him but didn’t say much. You were tired.

Everyone was happy this way! The visitors, the panthers, and the white tigers. 

Yeah, everyone was happy.

Everyone.

[ihadtohaveone-blog]

The moment Cervan turned the handle father burst through the door.

"how dare you! I allowed you to watch over her because I trusted you to keep your hands away. But no. You finally reveal your hand." Fathers eyes landed on you and in an instant he was at your side. "Your hair and dress is mess! Are you alright?"

"Father!" You squeaked. "I'm-i'm fine. Wha-what's going on? Why are you here?"

"What's going on is this snake sent me a farce of a letter!" A crumpled price of parchment was peaking out of father's vest. One with silver handwriting.

"Perhaps it is best to discuss this somewhere else? Perhaps over dinner?" Cervan proposed with a smile. The bastard was enjoying this. Enjoying your confusion. Enjoying your father's fury.

You glance at the grandfather clock. 7:30. "It is rather late." Your stomach agreed. Cervan laughed. "Fine" your father sighed.

The walk to the carriages was short. You could hear whispers here and there. You picked your transport, entered and off you went. Off to who knows where.

You were never one for meditation but you needed to make sense of this mess. What better place to start.

focus. Breath in. Breath out.

Why did silver handwriting so familiar? Something about the game? It been a lifetime since you played it. The game you were playing before you..... ended up here was divided into four levels.

The first two were the tutorial: one where you learned about the world and the layout, how much time you had in your day, and meet the male leads. The other was where you learned what you needed to do. Given small quizzes and events. There were no wrong answers. More of a personality test then anything.

The third was when the dating started. You had to juggle your classes, events, and dates.

The fourth and final level test your knowledge of the game. Questions about the world and characters. It would be easy if you had good memory. If you passed, You'd then be given a opportunity to confess and if your relationship was high enough, you'd received a picture of an envelope.

One wrapped in metallic colors, gold for the envelope, bronze for the stamp and written in silver. One that told you your happy ending.

Not that she ever picked anyone to get her happy ending! There wasn't even a harem ending! How the hell-

Focus. She's not important right now. Breath in. Breath out.

So Cervan sent father a proposal letter. Lovely. Stay calm. He'd need three people's approval for the engagement to through. Your fathers, which would be hard to convince him, given his reaction. The record keepers, his appeal came with checking for previous proposal contracts. And the king, his approval was more ceremonial.

Oh god. The king. What if he tells the first prince? And what if he tells the protagonist? Would she be happy? Upset? Angry? Your certain her harem would be. You getting married before us? How dare-

FOCUS.

Why would he do this? You weren't that important all things considered. You weren't high upon the ladder. You were from a merchants family. One that sold and bought that sought the nobles fancy. One that clawed and scraped enough to buy their title.

You have to admit you weighed the scales in your favor for your little portion. You used your otherworldly knowledge. No lead make ups. No pewter plates. No arsenic paints. You weren't stupid. You only annexed products you could connect injury too.

Perhaps that's why? Your knowledge from the other world? You can't be sure you didn't speak of any of it during your more drunken get togethers. Drink enough and anything could happen. Cervan could of taken advantage but he didn't because he cared for you.

Cervan cared for you.

You paused you musing to glance at him. He met your eyes and smiled. Your face heated up.

Would it be worth it? Marrying him?

You hope so. Because from the look in his eyes you don't think he'll let you go.

" We've arrived." The attendants voice called. Well.... onto dinner you suppose.

Bad End: Kept Safe (1)

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 27 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇sighhh

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Telemachus leaned against the doorway of Y/N’s room, his arms crossed as he watched her adjust her hair in front of the mirror. There was a tension in his stance, his jaw tight as he tried to muster the right words. Finally, he let out a sigh.

“Y/N,” he started cautiously, his voice firm but not unkind. “I’ve been thinking… I don’t think you should visit Antinous in the dungeon anymore.”

Pandora froze, her fingers pausing mid-braid. She turned slowly to face him, her expression immediately shifting to one of disbelief. “What?”

“It’s not safe,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “The guards aren’t fond of him, and he’s not exactly the most stable person to be around. I just don’t want you putting yourself in danger.”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Antinous is my brother, Telemachus. He may be a lot of things, but he’s not dangerous to me.”

Telemachus’s eye twitched slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “He’s unpredictable, Y/N. You don’t know what he might do. And the guards—if they think you’re sympathizing with him too much, they might make it hard for you to even be around the palace.”

Her jaw tightened, and she stepped closer to him. “I don’t care what the guards think. And I know my brother better than you ever could. I’m not going to abandon him, especially now.”

Telemachus pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his temper in check. “This isn’t about abandoning him, Y/N. It’s about keeping you safe. Do you think I want to lose you because you’re too stubborn to see reason?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Reason? You think I’m being unreasonable because I care about my brother?”

He sighed deeply, his hand dropping back to his side. “You’re not being unreasonable, but you’re being reckless. Antinous made his choices, and now he’s paying for them. You don’t need to get caught up in the consequences of his actions.”

“I’m not abandoning him, Telemachus,” she said firmly, her voice rising slightly. “I already lost my family once when we were once. I’m not losing him again. I don’t care what you say—I’m going to keep visiting him, whether you like it or not.”

Telemachus stared at her, a mixture of frustration and concern etched across his face. He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it again, running a hand through his hair instead. “Y/N,” he tried one last time, his tone softer but still pleading, “please. Just think about it. For me.”

Her expression softened for a brief moment, but then she shook her head resolutely. “I’ve thought about it, and my answer’s the same. I’m not going to stop visiting him.”

Telemachus let out a frustrated groan, muttering under his breath. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why do you have to be so controlling?” she shot back, her tone sharp.

They stood in tense silence for a moment before Telemachus finally threw up his hands. “Fine! Do whatever you want. But don’t come running to me when something goes wrong.”

Her glare softened slightly as he turned to leave, but she held her ground. “I’ll be fine, Telemachus. I know what I’m doing.”

He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her with a mixture of exasperation and worry. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, before walking out and shutting the door behind him. As the door clicked shut, she let out a shaky breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. No matter what Telemachus thought, she wasn’t going to give up on her brother. Not now, not ever.

——

It was late, the moonlight spilling into Telemachus’s room through the open window, casting soft silver light on the walls. Y/N slipped in quietly, her bare feet making no sound against the cold stone floor. She found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands, the tension in his shoulders clear even in the dim light. “Telemachus,” she called softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He didn’t respond at first, but when she stepped closer, he glanced up, his blue eyes weary and shadowed with frustration. “If you’re here to argue again, y/n, I don’t have the energy for it.”

She frowned but didn’t respond to his sharp tone. Instead, she sat down beside him, close enough that their knees brushed. “I’m not here to argue,” she said gently, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m here because I don’t want us to go to sleep angry with each other.”

Telemachus let out a heavy sigh, leaning back slightly and running a hand through his hair. “You don’t listen to me,” he said, his voice low. “And it drives me insane because all I’m trying to do is protect you.”

“I know,” she said softly, her hand slipping down to take his. “And I’m sorry if it feels like I’m ignoring you. I’m not. I just… I can’t abandon my brother. It’s not who I am.”

Telemachus squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he stared down at their entwined fingers. “It’s just so hard, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have so much on my shoulders already—being king, taking care of this kingdom, trying to live up to my father’s name. And then there’s you, constantly throwing yourself into danger for someone I can’t stand. It makes me feel like I’m failing you.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re not failing me,” she murmured, her voice steady and soothing. “You’re doing everything you can to protect me, to protect Ithaca. That’s what makes you such a good man, Telemachus. And one day, you’re going to be a great king.”

Telemachus turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against her hair as he closed his eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she said firmly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “You care so much about everyone—your people, your family, this kingdom. That’s what a great king does. You’re going to make Ithaca proud.”

His lips curved into a small, weary smile, and he reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he said softly.

“That’s because I know you,” she replied with a gentle smile of her own. Telemachus leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her back into his arms. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the quiet of the night, the weight of their earlier argument melting away.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her hair.

“Always,” she replied, her voice barely audible as the two of them finally found peace in each other’s embrace.

——

The morning light barely crept into the dim dungeon as Y/N descended the cold, winding stairs, a tray in her hands. The warmth of the bread and fruit on the tray contrasted sharply with the icy stone walls around her. The guards gave her a wary glance but stepped aside, knowing better than to argue with Telemachus’s betrothed.

When she reached her brother’s cell, the faint clink of chains echoed in the silence. Antinous was sitting against the far wall, his head tilted back, his eyes half closed in boredom. His once-pristine clothes were wrinkled and dirtied from his time in confinement, but his arrogant demeanor remained intact. “Are you going to just stand there, or did you bring me something edible this time?” he called out, not even bothering to look at her.

She frowned but kept her composure. “Good morning to you too, brother,” she said, her voice cool but not unkind. She crouched by the bars, sliding the tray through the small opening. “I brought you breakfast. Proper food, not the scraps they’ve been giving you.” Antinous’s eyes flicked open, and for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. He moved toward the tray, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to show how much he appreciated the gesture.

“Don’t think this makes up for anything,” he muttered, picking up a piece of bread and inspecting it.

She sighed, sitting cross legged on the cold stone floor outside the cell. “I’m not trying to make up for anything, Antinous. I just… I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He scoffed, taking a bite of the bread. “Do I look okay to you, Y/N? Locked up like an animal while that spoiled brat of yours gets to play king? I’m a prisoner in my own homeland.”

She flinched but didn’t back down. “You brought this on yourself, brother. You plotted against Telemachus, against Penelope. You knew the risks.”

Antinous leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he glared at her. “And you? What about you? Siding with the enemy? You’ve chosen them over your own blood.”

Her chest tightened, but she held his gaze. “I didn’t choose anyone over you, Antinous. I love you. But I can’t support what you’ve done. You tried to kill him. You tried to take this kingdom by force.”

He leaned back again, smirking bitterly. “And yet here you are, bringing me breakfast like I’m some poor, misunderstood soul. Why, Y/N? Why even bother?”

She looked down at her hands, her fingers nervously twisting together. “Because you’re my brother,” she said softly. “No matter what you’ve done, I can’t just stop caring about you. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I needed to see you. To make sure you’re still… you.”

For a moment, there was silence between them, the only sound being the faint dripping of water somewhere in the dungeon. Antinous’s expression softened just slightly as he watched her, but the walls he’d built around himself remained firmly in place. “You’re too soft,” he muttered, picking up a piece of fruit. “That’s going to get you hurt one day.”

She managed a small smile. “Maybe. But it’s who I am.”

Antinous didn’t respond, focusing instead on the food she’d brought. She stayed for a little while longer, sitting quietly as he ate. When she finally rose to leave, he spoke up, his tone uncharacteristically subdued.

“Thanks for the breakfast,” he said, not looking at her.

She paused, her hand resting on the cold bars. “You’re welcome, Antinous,” she said softly before turning and making her way back up the stairs, her heart heavy but her resolve firm.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee

@barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world

@simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl @dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- lost signal.

summary: welt finds himself unable to contact you after your departure for amphoreus. (gn!reader x welt yang; astral express found family)

tags: 1.2k words, established relationship, fake texts, astral express family, fluff and longing, spoilers for 3.0's main quest!

“You’re worried.”

Even Himeko’s voice does little to turn his head from the window, watching as the Parlor Car trails off and away through the stars towards Amphoreus. Out of sight, out of Welt’s reach – he was never good at stepping back and letting things be. He has to keep himself from pressing his hand to the glass, from tracing his finger along each and every fleck of light you pass, as if you could somehow feel him there with you.

“Am I that obvious?” Welt asks, adjusting his glasses. He feels Himeko’s dress brush over his shoes, and still he cannot bring himself to tear his gaze away for even a second; even as the car disappears from view as it enters into Amphoreus’s orbit.

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly. You know how capable they all are.” Himeko reassures. 

Welt lets out a weary sigh. Of course knows that. You, Stelle, and Dan Heng made a formidable team. Still, the worry persists, gnawing like moths at an old dressing gown. 

“You are correct.” Welt starts, sighing again as his eyes flick to her momentarily, before looking back out the window. The stillness in the Express is disquieting; it seemed less of a home without all the noise. “But still, I worry anyways.”

Himeko gives him a knowing smile. “I’m sure you’ll hear from them soon.” She says, turning to walk back towards the door. “In the meantime, would you help me make dinner for March? She still isn’t feeling well.”

Welt softens at that, finally forcing himself to look away. He assures himself that you all would be okay, and hopes that is enough. “Of course.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Welt has done the math over and over again. He knows this planet is uncharted, but they knew the distance to the landing site, knew how strong the planet’s gravitational pull was... If things went perfectly, you all should have docked three hours ago. 

You had promised that you’d text him once you successfully made it planet-side. He rests on one of the couches in the main car, one hand resting on his cane, the other holding his phone. 

Perhaps he’s acting like a besotted old man… and a hovering parent to Stelle and Dan Heng. But still, he finds his hands itching to type out a message to check in. And so, he does:

He tries to rationalize the response (or, lack thereof) before the tide of worry can wash over him once again. It wouldn’t be surprising if it were just Stelle’s phone that had no connection – but you and Dan Heng? Neither of you would let that happen, especially at the beginning of an Expedition.

Perhaps signal didn’t reach Amphoreus. It would be the most logical answer – it was out of sight to all but the Memokeepers. Besides that, he can't help but think it's possible that you all could’ve crash landed...

Welt stands, and goes to wake Sunday.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You lean out the balcony of the private baths, your hand stretching upwards to the sky, phone in hand, as if you could reach up far enough to hand the messages to Welt. 

“That’s not how it works.” Dan Heng says, one hand behind his head as he relaxes in one of the lounge chairs. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, a quarter of his attention diverted from his book to make sure you don’t lose your balance and fall.

You hate that he’s right. This is all an exercise in futility, but still, it doesn't hurt to try. You hop up on the railing, carefully sitting yourself on the ledge of the balcony, stretching just a few more inches forward. Dan Heng pays a bit more attention to you.

“Dan Heng’s right.” Stelle interjects, her long silvery hair gliding on the surface of the water in the bath, sprawled out as if she had not a care in the world. “You need much longer arms.”

You huff, looking at the ‘No Signal’ message that hasn’t budged from the top of your phone’s screen since you crash landed in Amphoreus. You wish there was something you could do to reassure Welt that you would all be okay.

You imagine he’ll have a few more grey hairs when you see him next.

“You should get down from there.” Comes Dan Heng’s voice, closing the book he was skimming through. “I would prefer not to have to tell Mr. Yang that you fell to your death.”

You hear Stelle snicker, and it’s then you hop down off the railing, realizing you are supposed to be the mature one here. You turn your phone off, then go to sit on one of the empty lounge chairs, listening to the water flow as it pours into the bath. 

Welt would like it here, you think. After everything he’s done for you, for you all, he deserves a nice, warm bath. Perhaps once you've restored contact with the Express, you could convince him to relax, if for a little while.

You let that thought carry you into a fitful sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In your absence, Welt spends the days with Sunday, exhausting their combined contacts to try and regain communication with you all. Each day seems to drag on, and yet he never finds enough hours to do all that he needs to do to ensure your safety. 

He should’ve just joined the Expedition… Welt hated, more than anything, not knowing; questions with too many variables to act on all at once. Especially when it involved those he cared about. 

Some of your things had been left in his room; he doesn’t have the heart to move them. A half-empty cup of tea that had long gone cold, the shape of your lips outlined in chapstick around the rim. The hotel key from your room in Penacony, sandwiched between one of his books you were borrowing; a makeshift bookmark that would no doubt end up damaging the binding. A picture of you, him, and Himeko taken in the jazz bar at the Reverie. Your hand is slung around their shoulders, and you’re winking at the camera, only slightly tipsy. The memory makes him warm with longing.

He sends another few texts your way, knowing they will not reach you. Still, it is nice to think of what he might say to you if he could.

At night, he sits in March’s room, watching to make sure her condition doesn’t worsen. The cold of the six-phased ice bites even through his overcoat.

Welt folds his hands in his lap, closing his eyes for a momentary rest. Come tomorrow they would go to the Space Station to search for answers; but for now, he would be present for March. It was all he could do.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Friendship In Escape

Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> After escaping a party, you meet Steve Rogers. It's in a simple conversation, you and him find common ground and from that a friendship grows. Question is, will either of you ever find the courage to act of the underlying feelings?

Disclaimer: This is a LONG one. Spoilers ahead for most of the main Captain America/Avengers films from The Avengers. Also, there's probably a lot of plot holes in this fic so we're just gonna ignore them. Slow, slow burn. Angst-y moments. Found family, fluff, taking care of each other. Some swearing. Reader helps Steve adjust to the modern world. Lots of hugging. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes but we're gonna ignore them, too (it's late and I'm pretty sure my brain is fried). Hope you enjoy it <3 Not proof read.

The party had been humming to life for an hour or more before the honorable host finally showed his face. Dawned in a big name branded suit, Tony Stark stood at the top of the stairs, calling for people to start the party. 

There was meant to be music, laughter, too many drinks and a fight he’ll be able to tell a story about at the next party. And you were sure, by the end of the night, he’d get his wish. 

This party in particular had been the third you’d been dragged along to in the space of a month. It hadn’t changed since you were a child. 

Posh names belonging to posh people with deep pockets and, when the time called for it, had long arms, too. The amount of money that was gathered from parties like this were worth the events being held. 

But never once had you felt comfortable. 

It wasn’t the shoes or the dress. In fact, getting ready was the best part of the night. But being dragged to the same people, with the same stories, being told about the same single people in their family, their sons, nephews, cousins. Being told to stand and take a picture with a smile that will let everyone know how fun the parties are. 

But they weren’t. 

For others they were. But for you? You had more fun spending time alone in the libraries at University, studying, answering company emails and working, mostly, from behind the curtain. 

If you could have done that, you would have avoided the parties all together. Relationships with other businesses were already solidified and had been for almost fifty years. 

So, after the fourth hour of walking around the gala room, standing and being forced to listen to the same conversations that you’d heard your whole life, listening to people be more interested in what Tony Stark had placed around his hosting room, and being introduced to another twenty something with a multi-billion dollar company behind his family’s name, but no integrity, you found your escape. 

“Darling, where are you going?” Your mother asked as you handed her your drink. 

“Just to the bathroom.”

She gave you a smile. “Hurry back. Sandra told me she’s bringing her cousin. Special invite from Mr Stark himself.”

You forced your millionth smile of the night and nodded. “Will do.”

As you took the stairs up towards the upper floors and bathrooms, you looked down over the edge of the balcony. They were preoccupied, listening to somebody’s story. 

Rather than taking a right, you took a left, bumping into a waitress. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Can I help you with something?”

You looked around you. “Just promise you didn’t see me. I need a break.”

The waitress just smiled. “There’s some rooms that haven't been decorated yet. Just take a right at the end of the hall.”

You looked down the hall, looked back and smiled at her. The first genuine smile of the evening. 

“Thank you.”

She shrugged. “This is my fifth party helping the host. We all need a break every once in a while.”

You thanked her again before walking down the hall. The minute you turned the corner, the party seemed like it was miles away. Every once in a while, you heard a roar of laughter but it never got any louder than that. 

With a sigh of relief, you decided to explore the different rooms. Some had tarp over the entrances, the insides not being suitable to survive at least an hour in. From holes in the floors to fresh paint fumes and drying plaster. 

But then one at the very end of the hall had a door. So, taking your chance, you opened it. 

“Oh!”

Inside stood a man dressed in a woolen style suit, his tie loose around his neck. He looked as if he’d been pacing and deep in thought before you’d opened the door. 

“I-” You looked around you, fearful you were about to get into trouble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone- Sorry.”

“Trying to escape the party, too?”

You stopped trying to close the door and looked at him. You couldn’t put your finger on it; maybe it was the way he stood, maybe it was the tone in his voice or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but you saw something trustworthy in him. 

An unlikely friend in a place where you had none. 

“What gave it away?”

He smiled, softly. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”

You stepped inside. “Thank you.”

“I- I’m Steve, by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it. 

“Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

For the second time that evening, you gave a genuine smile. “Likewise. So, what are you hiding from? A match-making mother, or a business minded father?”

“Neither.” Steve laughed a little. 

You walked further into the room before finding a spot with less sawdust on the ground. You’d been on your feet for a long time. You found the perfect spot against a wall between two windows. 

“Wow,” you brushed what sawdust you could with your feet before turning around and tucking the skirt of your dress down. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

He chuckled. “Not a big one.”

You shrugged, stretching your legs out and crossing them at your ankles. You patted the ground beside you. “My parents want me to socialise. I’d say talking with you qualifies as that. I’ve got time.”

Steve smiled as he watched you, finally agreeing to sit beside you. 

And for the first time in almost a month, you weren’t bored. 

Talking and listening to Steve didn’t make you so bored out of your mind you would have rather ran a cross country race. Talking with Steve was the first time you felt comfortable at one of these fancy galas. 

You’d come to learn that he was, in fact, the man they’d dug out of the ice. That he was the soldier lost to time, being forced into a new century without any idea how to deal with it. 

“I know a little of what that’s like,” you admitted to him. “To feel lost. I’ve been attending different parties like this since I was a kid. And never once have I felt comfortable attending them. I can talk to everyone in the room and feel completely loney, but I can sit on my own in a quiet place like this and…feel comfortable and be myself.”

“I had that once.” Steve told you. “I’d say back home, but I’m still in the same country. To be honest, I don’t know what anything is outside of this room.”

Then an idea popped into your head. “I could help.”

“How?” 

You shrugged. “I could help you adjust. I’m no therapist but I know how most things work in the 21st century. Movies, media, books. You said they gave you a document packet?”

Steve nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a folded over thick document. 

“With all the stores and street names, I don’t recognise anything anymore.”

Opening it up, Steve handed it to you. It had an address, some pictures, different appointments and different wifi codes. 

“I know where this is.”

“You do?” Steve seemed surprised. They’d given him the address three days ago with no instruction on how to find it. They just told him something about Google Maps. Whatever a Google was. 

You nodded. “It looks kinda old.”

Steve shrugged. “‘Guess it’s their way of giving me some familiarity.” 

You shook your head. “When do you move in?”

“End of the week.”

“I’ve got a meeting in the morning, but I can take the rest of the day – help you move in, if you’d like.”

Steve looked at you. “You’d really do that for me?”

You handed his document back and nodded. “I would. Just because you were given an image for them to control, doesn’t mean that they should take advantage of the person you are behind it all.”

“That’s really kind of you, ma’am.” 

You smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

For an hour more, you and Steve just talked. Filled with quiet laughter and genuine smiles, you and Steve found an unlikely friendship in each other that evening. 

A friendship that would only grow stronger and stronger over the years. 

At the end of that week, you met Steve outside the SI building before walking with him towards the underground and pointing out different landmarks for him to recognise. A university campus, a museum, a deli store that served the best sandwiches. You explained about the times for the trains that headed towards the different states. Finally, walking down the different streets, Steve started to recognise a few different places. New businesses stood in their places, but the bricks around them were the same. 

“Pretty sure I got beat up in that alley.”

You followed Steve’s eye-line before looking back at him. “Bet your mom was beside herself with the amount of times you came home with a black eye.”

Steve held a reminiscent smile on his face as he looked at his shoes. “Just a kid from Brooklyn who was too dumb enough to run away from the fight.”

You watched Steve for a moment; something in his tone told you those weren’t just his words. 

“Come on, we’re almost there.”

You took Steve’s hand, leading him down the street before you both arrived at the apartment block. A couple of younger kids were playing out in the street, kicking a football around until they scored it round the corner of the building, one of their mother’s yelling to play in the back. 

A guy with a coffee cart served passers by heading back from their lunch break, on the corner. 

Unlocking the front door, you and Steve walked up the first few flights of stairs before finally reaching his new home. 

As Steve opened up the door and walked inside, he was met with a living space that probably hadn’t had someone live there…maybe ever. The furniture seemed old, the kitchen table was rusting a little at the bottom of the legs and the curtains had seen better days. 

A few boxes had been stacked by the entrance way with different labels scribbled on them. 

You rifled through them. “Bed sheets, books, clothes.”

You took a note of the size label. “You know, I think one of my friends might have some clothes you’d like. She runs a clothing company that does everything from a vintage style to modern day. I’m sure she’d love to let you rifle through her products; see if there’s anything you’d like to take off her hands.”

You turned around but Steve hadn’t been listening. Instead, he’d been focusing on the case files that were strewn across the kitchen table. 

Standing beside him, keeping your eye on his reactions, you looked down at the table before you came across a picture. You had to take a breath. 

Steve had told you a little about his friends from the war. The Howling Commandos. 

“Is that them?”

Steve nodded.

It took Steve a while to get used to his new apartment, but with your help, he found it becoming a home. You helped him change the bedsheets and work out his washing machine before putting your phone number into his phone. 

“Think of it like a telegram,” you told him. “But rather than waiting weeks to hear back, it’s almost instantly.”

In the weeks that followed, you met Steve at his apartment every few days. On the weekends, you showed him around some of the thrift stores where he’d found a new kitchen table and some dishes to use in the kitchen. 

One of your friends – the same friend that ran a clothing company – had delivered some new curtains. They were plain, but they were better than the ones Steve had been left with. 

Meanwhile, Steve found an old gym where he could spend his evenings and, with your help, had figured out the basics of a phone and computer. 

The one Shield had given him was far too high tech, even for you. So, you had brought Steve one of your old ones. It was still pretty modern, but it was a lot simpler to use than the Stark Industries issued one. 

Then he got pulled into helping Shield with a threat that, to him, would have been best left in the ocean. 

News reports came in thick and fast during the attack on New York. You hadn’t heard from Steve during it, until you nearly ran into him in the middle of the street as mechanical…whatever the hell they were, were flying through the sky. 

“Why are you still in the city?! Everyone needs to get out.”

You nodded. “I know, but people needed help.” You looked down at his shield. “You know how to use that?”

Steve nodded. 

“Can you break a lock with it?”

Steve followed you as you ran down an alley before disappearing around the corner and to an employee entrance. Neither you or Steve could tell what had welded a lock shut, but considering some kind of blue weapon lay not too far out in the middle of the street with similar residue being left of the door, you could only gather it had been some alien technology. 

It took a few tries but the lock finally busted open and a bunch of parents with their kids came flooding out of the doors. As you and Steve started directing people to safety out of the city, you saw the way the kids looked up at Steve. 

The whole image of Captain America had been controlled by the government, making him an image away from Steve Rogers. But nothing could control the way those kids looked up at Steve as their hero. 

A comic book hero that existed in real life. 

“Ma’am, is that everyone?” Steve asked one of the women that left the room. 

She seemed distressed as she looked around. “I-I think so.” Then she ran off with the others. 

Something in your gut told you to check the rest of the room, and Steve followed you inside. 

“Go! Help the others! I can look after myself.”

“But-”

“Steve.” You looked at him. “Go. They need you.”

It took him a minute but he took your word for it and ran back out of the door. Meanwhile, you checked under every table and desk before something caught your eye at the side of one of the cabinets. 

A kid, no older than six. 

“Hey, honey.”

“Mommy was meant to pick me up.”

You looked around, hearing something hit a building nearby. 

“I’ll help you look for her. Can I pick you up?” The kid nodded. “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

“Sophie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. Come on, let's go and find your mom.”

After three hours of destruction over the city, and countless injuries being collected by people, it wasn’t until a mom came running through the crowds of EMTs and doctors, screaming out for her child that you and Sophie, sitting in the back of an ambulance, looked up. 

And Sophie called out. 

Jumping from the bench, Sophie looked outside and saw her mom running through the crowd. You watched as they collided and sank to the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why aren’t you with the rest of your class? Where are they?”

“Hey,” you said, walking behind Sophie. “They got separated when trying to clear the city.”

“Did you save her?”

“I got her out-” Suddenly, the mom crushed you with a hug. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I-” The tears continued to flow from her eyes. 

“It’s alright. All that matters is that she’s safe.”

“Thank you so much.”

Hours later, you had finally made it back home, had showered and switched your TV on. The news had been following updates and different people’s theories of what had happened. 

Then a knock came to your door. 

Upon opening it, you were greeted with a fresher looking Steve Rogers. 

“Shouldn’t you be with a medic?”

Steve smiled, “Shouldn’t you? Between the pair of us, I’m the one who has a serum running through their veins.”

You looked in his hand. “Is that a pizza?”

Steve nodded. “Didn’t know which kind you’d like, so I got the classic. Figured you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Inviting him inside, Steve laid it on the coffee table. 

“Shouldn’t you be helping The Avengers or something?”

“Avengers?” Steve looked at you with a curious look. 

You just pointed at the screen. “Oh, right. Yeah, we’ve all decided to take a break. But Shield tells me they’ve finally found me a job.”

“That’s something to celebrate.”

Steve shrugged. “Kinda hard to celebrate when an entire city almost got levelled to the ground.”

You understood. “I’m gonna head back tomorrow and see if they need any help.”

“Can I come with you?” 

“You don’t have to ask, Steve.”

He smiled, if a little sheepishly. 

For the rest of the evening, you and Steve shared a pizza and talked until neither of you wanted to say anything else. 

So, you picked out a film and placed it into the DVD player. And you and Steve just sat and watched it. 

As the months passed, you and Steve slipped into a familiar routine. He got better at texting, but you’d come to find he preferred to call. And during the days he was at the training facility in Washington and devoid of signal, he’d write you letters. 

And you wrote them back. 

He’d also started keeping a list, you’d noticed, of things you’d say in passing or you’d tell him to listen to or watch. 

On the quiet afternoons you spent together, Steve would open up more. He told you more about the 40s and being in the army. He told you more about his childhood and his best friend, Bucky. 

You’d surprised him one afternoon by taking him to the Smithsonian. They had a new exhibit put up – one pillar being dedicated to Bucky and his friendship with Steve. 

In one of his final letters, he’d told you of a man he’d basically been trolling on his morning runs. You’d come to find out his name and you smiled. 

Outside of you and the members of his team, Sam Wilson was the first friend Steve had made. 

However, you didn’t get to meet him in person until you got a call from him, under Steve’s contact. Of course, the minute the headline had flashed on your screen, you’d tried to get into contact with him. He’d fallen, or rather, jumped, from an elevator and fallen a hundred feet or more to the ground. His own work seemed to be after him. 

So, when you were told he’d fallen, once more, from one of the jets and had been in surgery, you rushed to him. 

Entering his room, Natasha had been the one to take you to his room after two nurses read your name on his file but wouldn’t let you through. 

“He’s alive, as you can see.”

“If I get a call like this again, telling me you’re dead, I’ll kill you myself.” You warned Steve before you walked to his side. The bastard had the audacity to chuckle. 

“I promise. If I’m gonna die, I’ll ask your permission first.”

From behind you, you heard a voice smile. “I like her.”

“Y/n, this is Sam. Sam, this is Y/n.”

From that day on, the movie and pizza nights came to include both Sam and Natasha. However, unbeknownst to you and Steve, the movie nights also came to include the rest of the team. 

Natasha had been trained to read people. And she’d never read anyone easier than you and Steve. 

And her information soon became Clint’s information which soon became everyone’s information when he accidentally let it slip to the others. 

Tony had been planning a party. Rather, he wanted to throw one and Pepper had come up with a list of people to invite. And when she read out your name, Steve had looked up but Clint had spoken first. 

“Is that Steve’s girl?”

They all looked around at each other before looking at Steve. He had a girl?

Steve faltered. “Yes, well, no. She’s my friend. We’re friends but-”

Tony turned to Pepper. “Invite Steve’s girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. And she doesn’t really like big parties so-”

“Invite her anyway. I can’t believe Clint knows about her before we do.” Then he turned to Natasha. “I suppose you already knew.”

She just nodded. 

And that was just the start of it. 

A few nights later, Steve had given you a heads up which you appreciated but it did put you on edge a little. But all in all, it was…fun. 

It was the first time you enjoyed yourself at a party and didn’t hate every minute of it. 

Firstly, the attire was fancy but not gala fancy. It was a celebration of Hydra finally being overthrown from Shield.

You arrived in your heels that didn’t hurt your feet so much, wide legged trousers and a graphic t-shirt. 

“Now, who is that?”

At the bar, Rhodey, Thor, Tony and Maria all stood watching as you entered the room, clearly looking for someone. Tony and Rhodey had met most of the building at the party. Maria had met them all – at the very least, she had a file on them all. 

But not on you. 

From behind the bar, Natasha leaned over. “That’s Steve’s girl.”

From the bar they watched as Sam noticed you first and called you over. You looked relieved at seeing a familiar face. Even more relieved at seeing Steve. Tony watched as Steve noticed you, too. 

The game of pool Steve had been winning at suddenly took a dip as his aim went off kilter, his attention immediately going to you. 

“Steve has a woman?” Thor asked, the other just nodded. “Well, we must meet her.”

However, as they all went to walk towards the pool table, Maria reached her hand out. “You boys swarm her, Steve will make sure you never get to speak to her again. I will go.”

And so she did. 

The others watched on as Steve introduced you to Maria, every protective instinct a man got when introducing his girlfriend to the rest of his family going up. And somehow, with simple ease, Maria had gained a small part of your friendship and led you towards the second bar. 

Meanwhile, Steve watched as you walked away, the heart in his eyes never leaving. Not even when Sam nudged him and they got back to the game. 

Throughout the night, Steve kept his eye on you. 

He almost broke the sound barrier by how quickly he turned up at your side when you were dragged into the conversation circle with most of them. 

“So, tell me.” Tony said, sitting beside you. “How did you meet our fellow Captain?”

“Tony.” Steve warned, though no true malice could be traced in his voice. 

You smiled. “It’s okay. We actually met at one of your parties.”

Tony sat back. “Really?”

You nodded. “Some fancy gala a few years back.”

Conversation between yourself and the rest of the group seemed to take a natural flow until eventually, all your nerves had subsided. 

But that didn’t stop you from needing a break by the end. Between talking with Natasha, Maria and Thor for most of the night, and beating Sam at a few rounds of pool – something Steve found incredibly entertaining,

Tony had backed Sam on his idea that you were cheating. Nobody won that many rounds of pool one after the other. So, as the others gathered and watched the game, Steve stepped forward and he covered your eyes. 

For a moment you looked up at him and smirked, and he smiled back with a light shrug of his shoulders. 

“Yes, thank you, Cap.” Sam said. “See. This will prove that she’s cheat-”

As you hit the white cue ball, everyone watched and was left speechless as every ball suddenly found its home in the pockets, leaving you with an automatic victory. 

Opening your eyes once more and standing up, you looked at the pool table with a proud look before looking at Sam. You’d never seen him as shocked. Looking at Steve, he seemed shocked but also proud. 

“Still think I’m cheating?” 

Tony just looked at you. “She’s a witch. She had to be. Were you cursed as a child? Born to some Vampire in Europe or something?”

Steve chuckled, as did you. 

“Come on, Tony. Accept your defeat.”

As the hours passed, eventually you found yourself outside on the balcony, taking a breather from the party. 

“Figured you’d find some place quiet.”

You stood back up, holding onto the balcony bar. “Hey.”

Steve smiled. “Hey. You okay? They can be a bit much.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not that. Just needed a minute. You know, this is the first time I’ve enjoyed myself at one of these?”

Steve looked up at the building before looking back at you with a smile on his face. “It is better when people aren’t trying to show you off.”

You nodded with a smile. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for escaping the last one and finding me in that room.”

It was in that moment that you realised the last time you’d gone to any kind of gala or party of the same scale was the first time you’d met Steve. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. “Thanks for not being mad when I opened the door.”

“I could never be mad at you.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got a good judge of character.”

You felt yourself chuckle before you looked out across the rest of the city before a cold wind blew through making you shiver. 

“Here,” Steve shrugged off his jacket but before you could tell him you were fine, he placed it over your shoulders. 

It smelt of him. 

“Thanks.”

Steve just nodded with a smile watching as you placed your arms through the holes and wrapped it a little tighter around yourself before you looked out at the rest of the city with him. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is something going on between Maria and Sam?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “She’ll eat him alive.”

“He might be into that.” 

Steve laughed and closed his eyes in disgust. “What makes you ask?”

You shrugged. “Just something I’ve noticed. He looks at her like she hung the moon. Though, of course, that’s when she’s not looking. When she is, it's like I’m back at school rehearsing for Much Ado About Nothing.”

Steve’s joy widened. “You were in a play?”

You laughed. “I wasn’t any good. I was only put on stage because my folks donated so much money to the school. All I wanted was to work with Tech.”

Steve chuckled. “I’d pay good money to see that. But, I get what you mean about Sam and Maria. Who knows? If the timing is right…”

Steve looked at you and you felt something bigger was being hidden behind his words. Part of you certainly held out hope that there was. 

“We should probably get back inside.”

An hour later, most people had gone home so it was left with just Steve, yourself, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Maria, Tony, Rhodey and Thor. 

Still wearing Steve’s jacket, you were sitting in the middle of the sofa, your legs curled towards your chest. After he stood up, Steve came back and handed you a beer before he nudged your legs allowing him room to sit down before he pulled them across his lap. 

It was the standard procedure for you and him to sit on a sofa together. Mainly because his sofa in his old apartment had been small enough to do so. 

Despite changing apartments and the sofa, it was just something that stuck. 

The others took silent note of it as the debate continued between Thor and Clint over his hammer. 

By the time everyone was trying to lift it, Steve became one of the last. Sharing a look with you before looking at Thor, Steve stood up and tried to lift it. 

You watched as it squeaked on the table for a moment, but moved no further. However, your knowing grin – despite it never truly lifting from the table – caused you to look at Thor. 

He looked panic stricken. 

But Steve stood back and held his hands up. 

“Or…you’re all not worthy.”

“It’s still a trick!”

In the moments that followed, everyone turned to their own conversations; including you and Steve. 

But Clint and Natasha kept their eyes on you and Steve. Your legs over his lap, wearing his jacket, his focus solely on you, his hand rubbing lightly against the bottom of your leg that was exposed under your wide-legged trousers, your ever loving gaze on his that matched yours, light and soft smiles on your faces. 

“Ten bucks says they’ll be married in two years.” Clint whispered up to Natasha. 

“Deal.”

Something that Clint didn’t know, that Natasha did, was that you and Steve were fucking oblivious. 

They’d all be lucky if it happened in two years. 

Quite frankly, it should have happened two years ago. 

Suddenly, a high pitched noise rippled through the room. 

“Of course you’re not all worthy…”

Your eyes landed on an oil leaking…zombie robot?

His voice was deep and menacing and nothing about any of it felt comforting. 

“Steve?”

“Stark?”

“Jarvis?”

In a single turn of events you’d gone from laughing and joking with each other to suddenly defending yourself against a robot who claimed he’d killed someone. 

A swarm of them flew in through broken glass panels and Steve kicked up a table before any of them could hit either of you. 

You landed on the floor beside him, a little winded. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m okay. Go, go, go. I’ll be fine.”

Steve helped you up before running off in the other direction. It was a whirlwind of blasts, bullets and shattered glass. 

At one point, one had you cornered as Tony unhooked another. And for a moment, you thought you’d be sent flying out of the window and out into the open before Steve took hold of it, throwing it back towards Thor before Clint threw him his shield. 

And it all ended as Thor sent his hammer flying through Ultron. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“Banner.” Tony called him over before they headed towards their lab. 

Meanwhile, Steve turned around before heading straight towards you and holding you in his arms, almost lifting you from the ground. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, letting the scent of him, his clothes, his jacket, calm you. 

“Yeah. Thanks for saving my life.”

Steve truly breathed for the first time since the high pitched noise had rang through the room. With a hand at the back of your head, he pressed a kiss to your temple and he closed his eyes. 

“Come on, let's go and find the others.”

However, as he took your hand, you pulled him back. “Steve.”

“Right, you-you’ll want to go home-”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. You’ve got glass in your arm.”

“Oh.”

“Does Tony have tweezers in his lab?”

Steve nodded. “I think so.”

Less than five minutes later, you sat Steve in one of the chairs, Bruce handing you and Maria a set of tweezers each. 

Staring with his arm, you plucked out the small fragments of glass before his skin healed over them, before holding his palm up to face you. Meanwhile, they began discussing the extinction of The Avengers and the possibility of nuclear codes getting out to the rest of the world.

Then rage got passed around the room. 

By the time morning rolled around, Steve drove you back home.

“Whatever happens…” You looked at Steve, a small voice in the back of your head begging for him to be imprinted in your memory as if he hadn’t already. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve nodded. “I promise. You’re the only one that can kill me, remember?”

You felt yourself laugh. At least he remembered. 

Looking at him again, you hugged him. “I mean it, Steve. Please be safe.”

He hugged you back, the feeling of him strong enough for you to still feel hours later. 

“I promise.”

Each day you didn’t hear from him was a little more worrisome than the last. And then when the media reported Shield helping evacuate people from a floating country…all you could do was hope Steve wasn’t one of the casualties. 

“Maybe I’ll take a leaf out of Barton’s book.”

“The simple life?”

“You’ll get there one day. Maybe you could get there with Y/n?”

Steve couldn’t deny he hadn’t thought about it once or twice. You and him. Together. More than friends. A part of him did think you felt it too. The same spark. Familiarity. The same love. 

“If something was gonna happen, it would have happened by now.” Steve told him. “Besides, I think the guy that wanted all that went into the ice seventy five years ago.”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t count on it. That guy is still there somewhere. See you ‘round, Rogers.”

As Tony drove away, Steve took in the building in front of him. And despite the acceptance he felt of being home, the idea of you and him…he figured that would always be with him. 

Even if it never happened. 

That night, Steve turned up outside your apartment with the next movie on his list and a case of soda. However, when you didn’t answer, he went in search of you. 

Opening the door to the roof, he looked around before spotting you in the very corner, sitting on the table of the picnic bench. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Looking around, you gave a sigh of relief at seeing him. He dropped the case on the table before you reached for him. 

“Thank god you’re okay.”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Since Nat called me and told me you’d landed. I couldn’t sit in my apartment anymore so…I came up here. Last time I looked out at the city was before everything went to hell.”

Steve looked out at the city himself before looking back at you. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Ross is probably about to reign hellfire down on…everyone.”

“What about the girl?”

“Wanda?”

You nodded. 

“I don’t know. She went through a lot, losing her home and her brother in one fowl sweep.” 

“You should train her.”

“What?”

“Train her,” you repeated. “You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be in a war, to sign up to be experimented on. She’s gonna need someone who actually understands some of what she’s going through.”

Steve agreed with you. You had a point. 

“Tony can have a lot of influence and his heart can be in the right place but he doesn’t always remember that people didn’t have his childhood or his life.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

You agreed with Steve. “He has. But he’s never lost a brother, or his life to somebody’s cause. She’s gonna need help.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking over what had happened, what Steve had thought when the earth quite literally started to lift from beneath him, what had happened with Banner and Nat and then you gave him your news. 

Bucky had been spotted. 

The next time you saw Steve was at Agent Peggy Carter’s funeral. You sat at the back for most of it, watching as Steve helped carry the coffin and as people gave their eulogies. 

You didn't know much about Peggy Carter personally, though you could remember learning about her in school. The founder of Shield, working alongside Captain America in her early career. And from meeting Steve, you’d come to know more about her. As well as how deeply both she and Steve were in love. 

You’d seen the clips at the museum, and with Steve beside you, it gave them a whole other meaning. And even though Steve living through the ice and landing himself in the 21st century had given you one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had, part of you felt angry for him. 

Angry at the fact he missed out on his chance with Peggy and that she had to live a life where, as far as anyone knew, Steve was dead. 

A soldier and a love story left stranded in time. 

You could remember when Steve had first visited Peggy, again. 

And now he had to say goodbye, again. 

“It was a beautiful service.”

Steve looked up and down the aisle to where you were walking towards him. He felt the breath get knocked out of him. Or maybe back into him. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use a friendly face?”

 A silent conversation then took place between you and Steve. Silent conversations weren’t unusual between you. A thousand words could be said in a look, but you’d both understand.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen after I leave here-”

“No, I know. I know.” You understood completely. After he walked out of the church, Nat would be leaving without him. 

“Today’s been a lot. Tomorrow’s gonna be a lot.” You looked back at Steve. “Right now can just be…right now. You’ve lost someone, Steve. Right now you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You don’t have to be Captain America right now.” Your gaze turned to Peggy’s picture. “I might not have met her, but I know you and I both know she would be telling you, you don’t have to be Captain America right now. At this moment, you’re just Steve: World War Two veteran who has just lost a great love in their life and deserves a moment to breathe.”

Steve gave you a weak smile, his emotions building up in his chest. “Thank you.”

Stepping forward, you wrapped Steve in a comforting hug and for the next twenty minutes, you both stayed inside the church. 

There he told you the smaller facts about Peggy – the ones he’d learnt when she was with him and his Howling Commandos. 

But then the time came to leave. 

Walking down the different streets, hearing time tick away, you and Steve soaked up what time you could before everything was about to go to shit. 

And on a bench beside the River Thames, you and Steve said your goodbyes. Both of you knew something was going to go wrong. What that was exactly, neither of you could put your finger on it. But something was going to happen. 

It was only a matter of time. 

“Here.” 

“What’s this?”

Steve read the piece of paper. It was a set of coordinates. 

“I own a house. It’s in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Europe. If anything happens, Ross can’t touch you. The house had been in my family’s name for generations but one of my great aunt’s left it to me. It’s yours to use.”

“Y/n-”

“Take it, Steve. Nobody knows it exists so they won’t find you. It’s run down but there should be running water.”

Steve finally accepted it. “Thank you. You know, if Tony ever finds out about this, he’s gonna believe that you are a witch from a vampire family.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I am, you just don’t know it.”

Steve shrugged, pocketing the paper safely. 

“I’m gonna miss you.”

You took his hand. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

You tried your best to avoid the tears, but they were trying their hardest anyway. 

“Just promise me one thing, Steve.”

Steve nodded, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Be safe?”

You nodded. “Be safe.”

Your eyes locking with his, Steve decided to take a risk. There was a chance he might never be able to see you again. Whatever was going to happen, the first person they’d put a tail on would be you. 

He kissed you. 

With your hand on his lapel, you held him closer. It was short and bittersweet, but the memory of him and his kiss would forever be seared into your brain. 

And for a few moments, you just held onto each other, fearful of opening your eyes and accepting that one of you would have to walk away. 

With his finger, Steve gently brushed the stray hair from your face away and behind your ear before kissing you quickly for a second time. 

“One of us has to say goodbye.”

“I know,” you sniffed. “I know.”

“If there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it's that you walked into that room when you did. You were the first person to treat me like one and to help me. Thank you for wanting to escape that party.”

You laughed through the tears. “You never have to thank me for that. It’s crazy to think I almost didn’t go.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So am I.”

Looking at each other for one final time, you leaned in and kissed him. You prayed that his hand by your waist would leave a brand – a different pain to carry with you than the one in your heart. 

Feeling yourself stand, the kiss broke away and you were the first to say goodbye. 

Walking down the stone pavement, you looked behind you before you turned a corner, only to find Steve had already gone. Between the bustling people, the bench you’d both just been sitting at was exactly that. 

A bench. 

Going home, you tried to find a way to keep yourself busy but no matter where you looked, everything reminded you of him. The movies you’d watched with him, the ones you didn’t. The pizza’s shared, and soda spilt, the curtain, bedsheets, books, clothes, pictures. 

You had some of his artwork in your house. Some of them people, most of landscapes – people and places you’d seen together. 

And in an album under your bed, you had his letters. 

Each one in its original envelope on one page and the pictures he’d drawn of the skyline from wherever he’d been. 

Some evenings, you’d reread his letters – still able to hear his voice. 

Then the headlines started to roll in. 

Captain America was a fugitive and had broken his team out of a high secure facility. 

And for almost two years a hunt was put on for him. You were interviewed every couple of months with the same questions. 

Did you know where he was? Had he contacted you? What information did he share with you?

Just because you’d given him a set of coordinates didn’t mean he’d use them. The last time you’d heard from Steve was in London and the only information he’d shared with you that day was about Peggy Carter and some of the old stories of when he was first in London in the 40s. 

In the meantime, your parents had convinced you to attend different dinner parties, charity shows, fundraisers and galas, all the while helping you find a date. 

Most of the people your mother had first introduced you to years ago, they were recently married. But the single ones she’d found; you dated some, though it never went any further than a sixth date – usually the date after your parents invited them to attend dinner. 

But no matter the fancy meal, or the conversation, or the man; none of them could beat a pizza, soda, a movie and…

Steve. 

None of them could beat Steve. 

But that all changed one afternoon when you were gardening. 

Living in the city had reminded you too much of Steve, and with the constant reminders of the memories and new threats and superheroes popping up, you decided to find somewhere nice to live. 

Someplace…simple. 

So, buying a house outside of the city with a few acres of land, you started renovating. Any business meetings you had could be done online which meant you had more time to fix your new home up. 

The smell of plaster, paint and sawdust filled your home for most of the days until finally things started to come together. New windows and locks were installed, the faulty taps were fixed and finally the entire place was given a new lease of life. 

And just as you were half way through with fixing your garden; planting some flowers and digging patches for a small allotment, a car pulled up outside your drive. 

On your knees in the dirt, it took a moment for your eyes to focus on the person climbing out of the car in the distance. 

They were tall, broad and had a beard. 

However, the closer they got, memories started to kick in. The walk, the frame…

You stood up and walked closer until you stopped again, feeling the breath being knocked out of you. 

“Oh, my god…”

He watched as you stopped in your tracks, your brain confirming who he was. Then you started running. Across the grass and onto the gravel path, you collided with Steve. 

“This is you, I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Steve shook his head and he held onto you, the essence of you filling his senses. 

“No, you’re not dreaming.”

You leaned back and looked at him before hugging him again. 

Finally, Steve set you back onto your feet and his hands remained at your waist. 

“Why are you back? Last I heard…”

“The team and I are keeping our distance for a few days. Nat’s headed to Ohio and Sam is trying to see his sister. It’s the best way to avoid Ross.”

You nodded, checking him over. He didn’t seem like he was dying. 

With a hand on his cheek, you smiled a little, pointing out the obvious. “You grew a beard.”

Steve smiled a little. “Helps me blend in.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled. “It suits you.”

Holding gently onto your wrist, Steve turned his head and kissed your palm and for a second you closed your eyes, leaning into him. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Placing your hand over his heart, Steve seemed to bear into your soul. “So am I.”

What followed was two hours of conversation around where he’d been and what he’d been doing since he left, and what you had been doing. 

Then he started to help. Painting the porch on the back of the house as you continued planting in the back garden, you spent time together. 

Time that was all too precious knowing he was on a clock. 

“Where did you learn to cook?” You asked Steve as you helped him chop up veg. 

With a smile on his face, Steve continued to prepare dinner. “I have a contact in Scotland. Their aunt runs a cafe and needed a few extra hands in the kitchen.”

As you helped Steve prepare dinner, you listened to the stories he’d gathered over his time away. Scotland, Spain, Germany, Italy, England, Poland, Norway, and many others. 

Once dinner was finished, you started to clean up. But from the table, Steve looked at you standing by the sink in front of the window. 

You’d never left his thoughts. 

Sat on that bench in London, he watched you walk away and for a moment, he remained where he was. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again – not without heavy restrictions. 

He wanted you so desperately to turn around, but if you did, he would have followed you. He would have stood up and ran after you. 

So he left. 

He left before you could look around, he left before he would stop fighting himself and follow you. 

And each day he woke up, for the few moments in the morning where he would forget what had happened, where he would forget the world he’d been found in, he thought about you. He thought about calling you or writing you a letter. He thought about seeing you when he’d roll over in bed. But each time…

You weren’t there. 

You weren’t with him. 

You were at your home, thousands of miles from him. 

And he had no way of talking to you. 

Walking across the kitchen floor to you, he placed a hand on your waist before reaching across to the window cill. 

“What are you doing?” You smiled. 

Looking at you and turning up the dial, Steve smiled. “Come with me.”

Taking the cloth from your hand, Steve dropped it back into the bowl of soapy water and took your hand in his. Then, pulling you into the middle of the kitchen with him, you both started to slow dance. 

“What’s this for?”

Steve shrugged, holding your hand over his heart once again. “I don’t know how long I’ve got with you. Figured we could spend it not washing up.”

You felt yourself smile. “I think I like that.”

It was soft and slow. Swaying with the beat until the radio turned static, you and Steve remained in each other's arms. 

“Can you stay the night?”

Steve nodded. 

“Good.”

The night soon settled over your home, the stars slowly emerging from behind the clouds. With your porch taking on a blue hue in its own shadow, you and Steve sat side by side on your porch swing. 

Your hair still a little damp from your shower, Steve continued to run his fingers through it. And with your head on his chest, you let his heart beat calm you. For a moment, Steve turned his nose into your hair and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

After a few moments, he didn’t say anything. Not that you would have heard anything considering your body was begging for sleep. 

Carefully standing, Steve slipped one of his arms around your back and one under your legs before carrying you inside. He tucked you under your bed covers before making his rounds, locking up the doors and windows. Finally, he got in beside you. 

For years, he’d dreamed of it. 

Being with you, by your side, a domestic and loving day before laying beside you knowing he would be waking up beside you every morning. 

And Steve smiled as in your sleep you moved closer to him, your arms wrapping across his middle. 

You couldn’t remember when you’d gone from the porch to your bed, but you could remember Steve. Feeling his arms around you, his heartbeat under your cheek, his lips on yours…

“Hey,”

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed by your legs, fully dressed. 

“Hey, what time is it?”

Steve kept his eyes on you. “A little after four.”

You gave a groan and closed your eyes again. Steve chuckled. Reaching out, he gently swept the hair from your eyes, your head turning towards him. With his hand on your cheek, he felt your smile. 

It was your turn to hold onto him and kiss his palm. 

And just as the knowing sadness started to grow, Steve still smiled, leaning forward and kissed you. 

You would never get bored of his kiss.

Peppering it out, you held onto his face before your hands slipped around his back and you held him closer. 

With a sigh, Steve held you closer to him, trying to imprint the feeling of you in his arms. 

Trying your best to ignore the growing tears, you spoke. 

“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

Steve chuckled a little. “You know you’re the only one who's allowed to kill me. But I promise.”

“Good.”

Holding on a little tighter, you silently begged for more time with him. But the clock was ticking. 

From above, there was deep rumbling. 

“You better go,” you told Steve. 

It took him a moment before he let go and with one final kiss, it was his turn to say goodbye. 

Hearing his boots walk across the floor of your bedroom, down the hallway, through the living room and towards your front door. 

You heard his pause for a moment and in that moment, you wondered what he would do if you called out for him. 

But he couldn’t stay any longer. 

People needed him. 

The world needed him. 

Hearing your front door click open, Steve’s footsteps trailed off as it closed once more until eventually the only sound that was left was the ever quieting sound of a rumbling jet engine.

Six months later, half of the world disappeared. 

With a snap of Thanos’ fingers, Steve watched as half of his team, his family, disappeared. And upon returning back to the Avengers’ compound, you were his first call. 

Only, you never answered. 

“Go.” Natasha told him. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

Making a break for it, Steve ran down into the garage before hopping on his bike. He’d made it to yours in half the time. 

Pulling up, he started calling out for you. His voice filled with desperation and fear, he ran up to your front door. 

It was unlocked. 

He almost tripped inside as he tried the door, the hinges getting stuck. 

“Y/N!”

He raced around your home; checking the kitchen, living room, pantry, washing room, office, bathroom, and the bedrooms before finally reaching yours. 

The bedding was strewn a little, the soft lines of the fitted sheet folded into where you would have been laying. The pain in Steve’s chest seemed to grow heavier by the minute. 

You weren’t here. 

One hand on his hip, another covering his mouth, Steve turned around in a slow circle. Tears pricking at his eyes, his mind had gone from running a thousand miles a minute to…being completely overrun by pain. 

He had nearly a thousand chances to be with you, to share a life with you that he’d always dreamed of – all before everything went to hell. 

But it was too late. 

You were gone. 

Just like half of the world, you were gone. 

Gripping onto the cold metal of your bed frame, Steve tried to steady himself. 

You were gone. 

Somewhere behind him, he heard a click. 

His entire body stilled. 

Slowly turning around he found…

No one. 

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed. 

As quietly as he could, Steve walked from your bedroom and down the hallway. The noises started to compile together. 

Shoes shuffling, a bag being thrown onto a counter, a bucket handle rattling against itself. 

From a corner, Steve saw an apron thrown across the back of a kitchen chair. A tap started to pour before someone switched it off. 

Then someone started to hum. 

You started to hum. 

Fully stepping into the kitchen doorway, Steve felt the entire life get knocked back into him. 

Then you turned around. 

He scared the shit out of you. 

The bucket slipping out of your hand, it knocked against your sink, the water spilling down the drain. 

Just as it did, you recognised him. 

Rushing forward, Steve enveloped you into his arms, your feet lifting from the ground. 

“You’re alive,” you breathed. 

“I thought you were gone.” Steve mumbled into your shoulder, holding onto you tighter. 

“Steve, what’s going on?”

“He won.” 

Steve set you back down on your feet and for the first time in almost seven months, you finally got a good look at him. He looked tired, worn. Beaten. 

“We almost did it, but he won.”

“Whose left?”

Steve tried his best to name those who were left. 

“We think Tony’s gone but we can’t be sure.”

The tears were falling from Steve’s cheeks as he told you. Wiping them away, you pulled him back into a hug. 

“I tried calling you but when you didn’t answer…” You could feel Steve’s entire body shaking under you. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Steve, honey, you need to sit down. Let me get you some water.”

As you sat him down, Steve watched as you moved around your kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, running the tap until it was cold before handing it to him. 

“I’ll make you some food. When did you last eat? You should call Nat.”

“Right.”

After calling and updating Nat, Steve hung up the phone. And for the next few hours, Steve talked you through everything he could; right up to him running through your door. 

In the months that followed, a transition started to take place. People had to get used to a world where half of the people they loved were gone. 

And somewhere between Steve finding you in your kitchen and Tony and Pepper having their daughter, yourself and Steve finally came together. 

Properly. 

This time there were no goodbye kisses and fear of never seeing each other again. That biggest fear had been and gone. 

What you were left with was…acceptance. 

Acceptance that you had both almost completely lost each other for good. There was no point in avoiding feelings, or being scared of what might happen. 

You both had a chance at a life together. 

So you both took it. 

From then on your home with Steve became interchangeable between the Avengers compound and your house. Saving her from the lifetime supply of peanut butter sandwiches, you dragged Natasha when you could to your home with Steve and made her a decent meal. 

Being out in the open also gave her a breath of fresh air away from the training facility walls that never changed colour. 

And eventually things…settled. 

People found a new way of life, coming back each year to celebrate those who were lost. And then new life was brought into the mix. 

Not too long after Pepper had given birth to Morgan, you were faced with a positive pregnancy test result yourself. 

And Natasha was your first call. 

“What’s going on? I have an extra gun in the car if we need it.”

You showed it to her. “What does that show?”

“Holy shit, you’re pregnant.”

A small whimper left your lips as you handed her the test stick and started pacing around your bathroom. 

“Are…are we not happy about that?”

You whimpered again as you paced up and down. “I-I don’t know. We-we haven’t planned anything. I mean, we’ve talked about it a few times but what if something goes wrong? Are you sure it was positive?”

Natasha looked back at it. “Well, it’s got a plus sign so-”

“It’s the third I’ve taken this week. The other two came up invalid but that one was like a bright flashing light.”

Reaching for you by the shoulders, Natasha sat you down. “Okay, first off, breathe.”

You did so. 

And then some more. 

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go and get you another box of tests. Proper ones, not these things. And you’re gonna call Steve.”

“He’ll probably pass out. Why do you think I called you?”

Natasha laughed. “Just call him. I’ll be right back.”

And she was. 

Walking back inside, she called out and Steve called back. 

Three minutes later, you were all huddled in the bathroom waiting for the result to finally show. 

“What if it’s a false positive? If it’s positive-positive, will I be able to carry the baby?”

Crouching down in front of you, Steve held your hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?”

You took a breath and nodded. Leaning up, Steve kissed you and you kissed him back. 

You’d been having conversations about starting a family together for a while, but neither of you had started planning it just yet. Mostly because you hadn’t gotten around to it. And you didn’t know if you could even carry Steve’s kid. For all either of you knew, the serum would carry onto your child. 

Natasha looked at her phone. 

“It’s time.”

With a shaky breath, you and Steve stood. However, you paused as you reached for the test. 

“Count me down.”

Steve chuckled softly, counting back from three. 

After one, you turned it over. 

Pregnant 3+ weeks

You felt yourself smile and laugh a little before showing Steve. 

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

Taking the test from your hands, Steve took one look at it before the water-works started. 

Nine months later, inside the Avengers compound, Natasha was walking with you. 

“Once they started arguing over what the manual said, I made a break for it.”

Tony had surprised you and Steve at your home and after an hour, Steve had wrangled him in to help build the crib. It was the final thing that needed to be built and since Steve had banned you from lifting heavy things since you had elected to ignore your midwife and pushed the crib from the living room and into the nursery. You couldn’t help. 

“Have you decided on a name yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Well, I might be biassed but Natasha is a really good name.”

You laughed a little. “I’ll think about it.”

Natasha smiled, holding onto your hand as she helped you down one of the narrower steps. 

However, halfway around the building, you stopped. 

“Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Just a bit of cramp.”

But it wasn’t just cramp. 

Barely a second later, you felt water trail down your leg until there was a louder splash against the tiles. 

“Oh, shit.”

You looked down. “Oh, my god.”

“Okay, okay. We’re okay.”

You nodded, taking hold of her hand as she walked you down the hall. 

“Steve’s old room is just down the hall. Once we get you there-”

“Call him.”

“I know, I will.”

“No, call him now. Please.”

Twenty minutes later, Tony’s car was kicking gravel up and onto the windshield. Steve ran inside, nearly taking out a few employees on the way. 

Almost fifteen hours later, a healthy baby girl was delivered. 

With her in Steve’s arms, bundled in a fresh baby blanket, everyone stood around the bed. 

“Only took you a decade.”

Steve chuckled, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his daughter. And neither could you. 

And for almost four years, it was blissful. 

As your daughter grew up, Steve told her stories and showed her pictures of the 40s. Even at the age of three, she seemed wise beyond her years. 

Then one night, everything changed. 

Recently, she hadn’t been sleeping. So, lay in bed with you whilst Steve was still at work, you told her a few bedtime stories but when Steve came in an hour or so later, he found her still awake. 

“You should be asleep,” he whispered to her. 

“I tried. Mommy fell asleep, though.”

Steve looked over and smiled. “Come on, let your mom sleep.”

Picking his daughter up, Steve carried her down the hall, leaving his jacket on the bed beside you. Making sure to close the door behind him, Steve started to talk to his daughter. 

Their conversation eventually turned to someone from Steve’s past. 

“Daddy, whose that?”

Steve looked at the photo. It was him and Bucky during his army days, though both were out of uniform and in civilian clothing. There weren't many pictures of Bucky in normal clothes. 

“That’s Uncle Buck.”

“But he’s not in green.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re right, he’s not. That was when we were in London. Pinky, one of the Howling Commandos, decided to take us on a tour of London.”

“Wow.” 

She was awe-struck. 

“Does he know I was born?”

Steve felt a pang in his chest. “Maybe. I don’t know if he can hear me, but I’ve told him.”

“Would he like me?”

Steve smiled. “He’d love you.”

Kissing her temple, Steve sat down in one of the chairs. “Try and get some sleep.”

Steve himself must have fallen asleep because next thing he knew, you were waking him up. Your daughter was still fast asleep, he carried her to bed before you led him down the hall and he collapsed onto your shared bed. 

The next time he woke up that morning, everything you both knew was about to change. 

Time Travel. 

There was a chance everyone could be brought back. 

And after a long conversation, one that was overheard by your daughter who had been playing in the back garden with the family dog, Steve accepted what he had to do. 

“You and Aunty Nat will have pictures again.”

Handing Steve a slightly mud scattered, crinkled, crayon drawing; your daughter had drawn a picture with everyone on it. 

Herself, you, the dog, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Sam with his wings, Clint with his bow and arrow, Thor and his hammer, Tony, Bruce…the stick men with different items, standing on a green field with a corner sun, continued on and on. 

It was that night you kissed Steve and he said what could have been his final goodbye to your daughter. She held onto him tightly, telling him she loved him. The only thing that carried him on his feet was the thought of going through what Scott was. 

In the time he got stuck, he thought his daughter was gone. 

Steve would have done anything to get his daughter back. 

And it didn’t take much for him to remember the pain that washed through and over him when he thought he lost you. 

Scott, like many others, had lost someone they loved. So had Steve. But he hadn’t lost you, though he thought he did. 

People needed their families back. 

And that’s what they got. 

At the cost of Tony’s life. 

After everything had settled, you drove as fast as you could to find Steve. And you found him far outside of the Avengers compound, crouched on the floor. 

“Steve!? Steve!”

Looking up, he spotted you amongst the grey smoke. A shining light in the darkness. 

Running as fast as you could, you eventually reached him. 

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if you were okay. Are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was quiet. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Who’s gone?”

Steve’s voice broke. “T-tony. Tony’s gone.”

“Oh, my god.”

As Steve hugged you, you held him as tightly as you could. He asked about your daughter. 

“She’s with my dad back home. She’s safe. She just needs a cuddle from her dad.”

Steve nodded. “I think I need one from her, too.”

Two weeks later, Steve brought Bucky and Sam home. 

“Honey, come here.” Your daughter ran to her dad’s side. “Sam, Buck. I’d like you to meet Aurora. Rory, honey, this is Sam and Bucky.”

Sam knelt down and shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, miss.”

Meanwhile, Bucky was in pure shock. Slowly, he knelt beside Sam and Bucky felt his life flash before his eyes. 

“Steve…she looks like your mom.”

As Rory studied Bucky, she decided to hug him. Sam smiled and so did you and Steve. And eventually Bucky hugged her back, frightened he might break her. 

“Can I show them my room?”

The consensus was yes and whilst Sam was dragged towards her bedroom, Rory shouting for you to follow, Bucky and Steve followed behind. 

Inside her room, her walls were covered in different pictures she’d drawn of the different stories Steve had told her. Of course, most of them were stick men, but the message was still clear. 

A week later, a funeral was held for Tony and the Stones had to be returned. 

Standing beside Bucky as Steve stood on the platform, Aurora stood and waited in between both of you. 

And in what was a few seconds later, Steve returned with Natasha by his side. 

Aurora gasped and bolted forward. 

“Aunty Nat!”

“Careful, kiddo.” Steve warned just before Aurora collided with her, but Natasha shook her head. 

“It’s okay.” 

Lifting her into her arms, she hugged her tightly.  

“You’re back.”

Natasha smiled. “Thanks to your dad.”

Looking at her dad, she smiled before hugging Natasha again. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Natasha nodded and carried Rory back towards you before everyone started running over. Meanwhile, you watched as Steve walked over to Sam. 

Ten minutes later, your daughter bolted from the crowd and towards her dad who was finally out of his protection suit. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Seeing you again, Steve kissed you before kissing Rory’s cheek. 

“Everything okay?”

Steve watched as Fury made his way over to Sam, and he smiled. 

“Everything’s good.”

Kissing you again, Steve smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For walking into that room when you did.” Steve told you. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to do something about it.”

You shook your head, looking from him to your daughter and back to him. “It happened when it was meant to.”

Steve smiled before he kissed you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tony was right; Steve found the life with you he’d always wanted, even if it did take him a decade to do something about it. 

[somnus-lucis-caelum]

 He had promised her to take on the talk to Nikolaos’ family. But when Aerith left, only the sensation of her touch on his face lingering, Somnus felt his own bravery struggling for a moment.

But now they had begun. So, they had to see it through.

The story he told Nikolaos’ family was one of gratitude and support. One of grief and empathy. And it was not his own – it was Aerith and her proposal. The urn she had painted was brought forward.

Even knowing their culture, Somnus could have only guessed their reactions. For a moment he held his breath, when they took the offered piece of art Aerith had painted for them.

The tears on their faces ran down into lips that tried to smile.

They accepted. The urn, the proposal of Aerith’s prayer, the idea of a chance of a farewell to their beloved Nikolaos.

Every step into the temple felt heavy. The darkness so all-consuming in there. And yet no one dared to get closer to the Princess praying. Somnus watched, feeling as if each heartbeat thundering in his chest was suffocating his breath. And yet… the Lifestream answered her call finally.

What Aerith did was something that Somnus would never forget. It would accompany all his life and change core beliefs he had held onto since he had been a child. The green light, the chorus of voices, herself kneeling amid this… it touched something within his own soul and heart. Leaving an imprint to remain forever.

As did the words Nikolaos’ spirit gave to him. A jab, a joke. Like back when they had been sparring. A small challenge.

“Don’t fumble this, princeling!”

Somnus knew what Nikolaos meant with ‘this’. Them. Aerith and him. Their future together. How he treated the Princess that gave the soldier a chance to say goodbye to his family.

The shock was quite clear on Somnus’ face. He did not even dare to move, staying in the shadows of the pillars as the scene right before him concluded.

The green light seeped out of the temple and with it the border between death and life was built up once more. Leaving a family that only gave the Princess a moment to utter her last little words from Nikolaos before disbelieving chuckles and choked tears ran freely once more. And they came to her, circling her, cupping her face, kissing her hands, her hair, saying their thanks in every way possible. Calling her a blessing.

How could words ever convey what Aerith had done for them? They simply could not. Somnus felt the same, when after some time the family took their leave, with final kisses and sad smiles to Aerith, though the hope had returned to their eyes.  And urn with finely painted details held tightly to the mother’s chest. They would go and collect his ashes. And yet they now had proof that Nikolaos would forever be with them.

Somnus slowly came from the shadows, his eyes mustering Aerith. Recognizing how exhausted she was. He wanted to help her, gingerly taking her hands once more and leading her off to the end of the temple, beyond the altar, where the temple opened up again towards the lonesome coast, with steps where he urged her gently to sit down upon the shawl he loosened from his shoulders.

Though there was something even Somnus could not hide. His face had been perfectly still for all this ceremony. He knew how to act. And yet… what she had done, what she had allowed him to witness, what she had given Nikolaos and him… it made a few single tears drop from his face, that Somnus quickly hid by bowing his head.

“Thank you…”

Aerith drew strength from Roran's bravery. Even when he was afraid and sad, he still led with compassion. He was only a young boy but his heart was big and full of love. That much he proved when he found his voice and hugged each of Nikolaos' family. He was a good kid. Had it not been for their son, he wouldn't be standing here to hug them, or to promise to them that he would always talk to Nikolaos in the Lifestream.

She hadn't drawn too much attention on herself. Perhaps it would be noticed, how the Cetran Princess held back long after was expected of her.

Or even how the Lucian Prince stood at her side, gently twining his arm around hers to seek her hand with fingers interlaced. It almost tickled a smile from her. Almost. Instead she gave a small squeeze.

"... I should go inside the temple now. I'll start my prayer, it will take some time." Her head finally turned, and the corner of her lips hooked up in a quick little smile. "Wait until the last few have finished talking. I... feel a tingling, I don't want to get my hopes up but..."

Her head shook. She wouldn't speak it out loud. "I'll see you soon." Her other hand reached to briefly touch his cheek, an affection and polite little farewell for now.

The Princess walked into the temple alone. Her footsteps seemed so much louder in the great open space as she approached the far end. Where offerings would be laid out to their Gods, and where priests and priestesses would offer blessings, she knelt down on the polished marble floor and bowed her head, hands clasped in her prayer.

This was holy ground.

Like the sacred pools of the forgotten city, there was a feeling of... not being alone...

That was how Somnus and the family would find her. It was a silent prayer, and a slow one. Even with the small delay of crowds, by the time they entered the temple she hadn't pulled her answer yet.

It was a long couple of minutes before a faded, distant sound started to rise as if from the floor beneath. Small flickers of green, orbs clinging in the air around Aerith, and then a gentle song rising up, stirring her hair and her clothes, the breeze washing over the family as column of green rose up.

It hung there for another moment, like a doorway, one that could lead to their beyond.

A sandled foot stepped forth. The green shimmering, taking form as a soldier walked between the praying Princess to greet his family one last time. Nikolaos had answered his call with a smile spread upon his face. There, but not there. Touches were feather light. His families hands would ghost through him if they tried to hold on tight. There were tears, relief, echoed little sobs as they struggled to find the words good enough for a final goodbye.

But it was Nikolaos himself who promised he was not truly gone. That he would walk beside them even when they could not see him. He caught the Prince's eye, lips split into a grin. It was just a quick greeting. He ran in a half-jog, a shimmering green trail in his wake and he brought his hand to clap on Somnus' arm, it could almost be felt. He leaned and whispered some words only to him, grinned even wider, then returned to his family for the last few minutes he had left. It was as long as Aerith could give. As long as Nikolaos' soul could linger. He gave hugs all around, already beginning to fade, but before he was completely gone, before his soul rejoined that beautiful chorus stirring around them, he took a moment to kneel beside the Princess and utter one little thing. His final goodbye was a wave a thrown kiss to those he most loved. And then... the slow return of silence... the breeze left them, the melody of other voices too.

The gentle green glow faded out and finally the Princess lifted her head. She pushed herself up slowly, and if she seemed weak in her initial movement, it was because she had used every last drop of her mana to make the moment possible. Draining didn't even begin to cover that spell. Yet she still stood tall. And finally she turned to his family. "Nikolaos said... thankyou for not dropping the urn, even though it would be funny."

[impish-baby]

Another question! Okay sorry lol I have another question for the both arms cradle you now fic again! So when you answered my previous ask about our step mother and our step siblings I remember in one of the parts you mentioned that their where more siblings like our dad and step mom had more kids or am I wrong? If I am you don’t have to answer this ask! I was also wondering more about the neglect why did they now realize what they put reader/us through? What triggered their yandere behavior sorry for my so many asks! I just love your blog! Have a good day! And drink water and get lots of sleep!

You are right, I did write that! Thing is at the time I was still unsure of who all I was adding to the story as well as the timeline of events :p so reader now officially has two older stepsiblings and a younger half brother!

Reader was fourteen when they finally gave up on their dad, and moved away with their mom shortly after. They didn't want any contact with anyone from Damien's side of the familly, so the Christmas party is everyone's first time seeing them in years. (Four, since reader is eighteen currently in the series)

The first year reader was gone was a shitshow to say the least

Going no contact with everyone was abrupt, especially since the family as a whole was tight-knit. Paul eventually got a hold of reader's mom (she was ignoring Damien) and got a simple explanation that basically boiled down to 'ask your son and his step kids'

Lizzie is already in boiling water at this point since everyone was freaking out about reader being gone all of a sudden, so when she gets set down for some answers she immediately bursts into tears and confesses (miles is also in trouble, and he quietly confirms and admits his part of things)

After everything is out in the open, Damien is having a crisis. He's also sobbing now because he realizes that not only has he been a shitty dad and lost his kid, but you've been through so much (his baby, oh god, his baby..)

Paul has to leave so he doesn't just yell at them all for hours, but makes sure they know that they aren't allowed in his home for the foreseeable future (you can see that he's still really cold to Damien in 'villian and violent')

You know the saying absence makes the heart grow fonder? Dial that up to the extreme.

Everybody misses reader dearly (besides the step sibs at first), there's always a hope that there will be a phone call, a text, something, but it never comes.

Longing and longing and longing starts to turn into something different, because when reader is back (and they will be) what's stopping you from leaving again? Familly is important, even if you were wronged, how do they show you that you need them?

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

sy trying to create a pidw au would be so funny

i feel like he'd actually commit to it to spite airplane. at first, it garnered attention bc it was from the peerless cucumber, notorious critic and biggest pidw hater, so ofc they're all curious how pidw would look like in his eyes. it was surprisingly (well not really, considering the tens of paragraphs peerless cucumber wrote during his rants, all of which have immaculate grammar and spelling— bc ofc he can't let anyone find something to nitpick on his review so they're forced to see the point!) well-written and definitely more plot-focused.

majority of the readers disappeared after the first few chapters, mainly because of the lack of smutty scenes, but those that do remain are very engaged. one of them is airplane's burner account, when he needs to separate himself from his airplane persona. he's really, really curious as to what his hater is doing to his work.

he... he actually likes it. it's not really the novel he envisioned when he was first working on pidw, nor does it contain all the elements of his original draft, but it was good. he likes it a lot better than what pidw turned out to be.

airplane spent so much time contemplating and considering before finally saying fuck it, and dms peerless cucumber to see if he can work as a co-author with him and they can rewrite pidw together. he even sends parts of the original draft (what was left of it, anyway) as incentive!

it takes a long week before even peerless cucumber replies, and by then he has written a novella detailing how much better the original draft was and him screaming very informally at why airplane had to cast it aside.

lol i need money bro im broke af and porn sells, airplane answers.

it takes another week before peerless cucumber finally answers. then live with me, his message reads. no rent. i'll pay for whatever food you want. and whatever bills you have. just write a good fucking novel, i swear to god.

airplane thinks it's a joke, until he receives the address. an actual penthouse. in the richest streets of guangzhou. there is also a request to meet up (seeing as they don't actually know each other, and sy's brothers are very intent on not getting him murdered in his sleep) and airplane, after much, much thinking, accepts.

airplane does not really know what to feel when he finally meets and talks to shen yuan— pampered third son of a very wealthy family, with two protective older brothers and an even more protective little sister— and sy is just. well. he's exactly airplane's type. the beautiful, ice prince who apparently has only shown this much emotion around airplane. sy's meimei had told him cheerfully and then threatened to gut him if he so much as steps a foot out of line. airplane is starting to feel like he's just met a mafia family.

shen yuan's family aside, airplane is actually living his best life. he no longer has to worry about money. he lives in a luxurious (gods he has never seen such a large bedroom before wtf) penthouse without needing to pay rent (!!!) and utilities (!!!) and even food (!!!). he can write as much as he wants. this must be what artists felt like when they're taken care of noble families in exchange for their art.

he does... well. he and peerless cucumber are friends now. they work on the rewrite together. airplane keeps finding out many things, like how shen yuan likes his tea with a lot of honey, dislikes milk chocolate, and prefers drawing over writing. he also runs hot during the night, when he sleeps.

how does airplane know that? well. bros gotta do what bros gotta do. it's a good thing they both like to cuddle.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 - 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Spoilers ahead.

Nobunaga: "Mai, Tell me everything."

Mai: "That's..."

The words caught in my throat before I could say them.

(No, I can't. I just can't say it.)

(If Mitsuhide were to disappear from history, I would be saved, but…)

(If I explain everything, it will only bring suffering to everyone in the Oda army.)

(To save him would mean abandoning me.)

I couldn't put such a cruel choice on the people who feel like family to me.

Nobunaga: "Mai, answer me."

Hideyoshi: "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Mai: "............"

I'd been praying that my voice would reach them every time I opened my mouth, but that wasn't the case now.

(Since I came to live here, I've grown to love everyone in the Oda army.)

(I treasure them deeply, without question, and I know they treasure me too.)

(Which is exactly why I can't bring myself to ask for help, no matter what.)

(I'm the only one who needs to suffer.)

I finally understood the loneliness Mitsuhide must have felt.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai? You're still here, right? You can still hear us?"

(My voice still reaches them for now, but…)

I clutched the bell in my palm to keep it from making any sound and quietly stood up.

Masamune: "It's fine if you can't reply right away. You can write it down and send it to us later."

Ieyasu: "You should do that. It's more of a hassle if you try to carry it all by yourself."

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai, we're here for you. And of course, Lord Mitsuhide, too."

Hideyoshi: "That's right, Mai. So don't worry about it."

Keiji: "You're cherished, Mai."

(Yeah, I really am.)

I gazed at each of their faces, engraving them into my memory.

I knew that after this, I'd never be able to meet their eyes again.

(Thank you.)

(And...)

(I'm sorry.)

Swallowing the words I couldn't say, I left the hall.

When I got back to my room, I tried a few times before I finally picked up the brush.

(Sending a letter would interfere with people from this time, so this is probably my last chance.)

(While I can still connect with them, I need to make sure they know this.)

Even though I was freaking out, I took my time with each word, trying to keep my handwriting neat as possible.

(If I disappear, Mitsuhide will have no reason to fight against everyone.)

One of the reasons he raised his army was to have himself defeated to save me.

(I need to tell them that I'm gone and that they should stop him.)

I would beg them to welcome him back into the Oda army and not punish him.

And then I wrote my apology and gratitude to everyone in the Oda army.

Hideyoshi, thank you for always being so kind and considerate. I can't even begin to explain how much your kindness has saved me.

Masamune, the way you carry yourself has always inspired me. I'll always pray that your path will be a glorious one.

Ieyasu, thank you for always encouraging me with your stern words. I'll really miss hearing your blunt but caring voice.

Mitsunari, your smile is really like that of an angel. Please continue to light up everyone in Azuchi with that smile.

Ranmaru, being with you was so much fun. You're an important part of my life, and that won't change even if we're apart. We'll always be friends.

Keiji, although we've only known each other for a short time, your cheerfulness gave me so much strength. If I could have stayed in Azuchi longer, I'm sure we would have gotten even closer.

Lord Nobunaga, thank you for welcoming me into the Oda army. Thank you for everything. Please, please, take care of yourself.

Mai: "Phew."

I finished writing and immediately started on the last letter.

(What should I do? I don't have much time.)

(I have so much I want to say, but I can't fit it all in.)

As I thought of that person, tears began to fall, soaking the paper, and my hand, holding the brush, remained still.

The emotions were so overwhelming that I felt like my chest would burst.

(I won't blame you for your choice. Just let me make the same one.)

(I'll take all the divine punishment upon myself.)

I will not drag you into hell with me.

(I'll go alone, so you must survive in this world.)

(That's my final and only remaining hope.)

I managed to move my hand just enough to write a brief letter.

Eventually, night arrived.

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai, are you here!? You haven't responded since earlier. Where are you?"

Ranmaru: "What the hell is this letter!?"

Ranmaru: "..........."

Reading the letter left in the now empty room, Ranmaru froze for a moment before bolting out of the castle.

And just like that, Mai vanished from Azuchi Castle without a trace.

The following morning, the Oda army clashed head-on with the rebel forces.

Mitsuhide: "Do not falter. Forge your path forward! We will take Nobunaga's head!"

Rebel soldiers: "Yeah!"

Samurai, ronin, bandits, townsfolk, and villagers—all soldiers of different backgrounds, with their flags raised, charged forward under Mitsuhide's command.

Meanwhile, Nobunaga, glaring at the approaching large battalion, surveyed the battlefield from the rear of his army and coldly issued his command.

Nobunaga: "Scatter them."

Masamune: "Understood."

Masamune drew his sword and spurred his horse into the fray.

Keiji and Ieyasu quickly followed behind him.

Masamune: "Too soft! Bring them all at once!"

Keiji: "If you're gonna run, now's your chance!"

Ieyasu: "Move! Get out of my way."

The thick wall of enemy soldiers was quickly shattered.

Rebel General 1: "L-Lord Mitsuhide, what should we do?!"

Rebel General 2: "At this rate, it's only a matter of time before the enemy reaches our rear command!"

Rebel General 3: "What's with their strength?! These guys are monsters!"

Mitsuhide: "I don't remember giving you permission to retreat."

Rebel Generals: "!"

Mitsuhide: "Advance. Only forward."

As the sun began to set, the peaceful fields transformed into a hellish scene.

Swords and the bodies of the fallen lay scattered across the field.

Rebel General 1: "Move! We can't hold on any longer! I'm escaping!"

Rebel General 2: "Wait, you're not getting away ahead of me! I'm going too!"

The rebel forces, now scattered, began to flee in confusion.

However, the Oda army's rear guard wasn't about to let them escape.

Mitsunari: "I wouldn't advise turning your back. Don't waste your life."

Hideyoshi: "Don't think any of you are getting away. If you want to keep your head, drop your swords now."

Rebel soldiers: "H-Huh?!"

One by one, the enemy soldiers were overwhelmed by Hideyoshi and Mitsunari's forces.

The main force of the rebel army, which had been holding its ground in the center of the battlefield, was steadily worn down by Masamune, Keiji, and Ieyasu.

Eventually, the unit directly under the command of the generals was left exposed before the Oda army.

Rebel General 3: "I-It's over. I'm retreating!"

Rebel General 2: "You think you can escape alone?!"

Rebel General 1: "P-Please forgive me! I was just manipulated by Mitsuhide Akechi!"

Ieyasu: "I'll listen to your excuses in prison."

Masamune: "You guys are not even worth cutting down."

Keiji: "What a pathetic bunch. How the hell did they even become generals?"

The defeated soldiers bowed in surrender, and after the rebel generals were captured, the battlefield, heavy with the scent of blood, fell into an eerie silence.

Then, the two commanders faced each other.

Mitsuhide & Nobunaga: "..........."

Mitsuhide didn't lower his head. Instead, he raised it and smiled.

Nobunaga: "This reunion came sooner than I expected, Mitsuhide. Though, it seems you didn't anticipate this outcome."

Mitsuhide: "What are you saying? I misjudged the strength of the Oda army. I underestimated your true power."

Nobunaga: "Oh? So even a man like you can get his calculations wrong?"

Mitsuhide: "Yes, I've been overestimating myself for quite some time."

Mitsuhide: "It's a real shame, but it seems my fate has finally come to an end."

Nobunaga: "I see."

Mitsuhide lightly lifted his chin, exposing his throat to the setting sun.

Mitsuhide: "I've long accepted my fate."

Nobunaga: "Is that so?"

With a sharp sound, Nobunaga unsheathed his sword.

The gleaming white blade glinted as its tip pointed directly at Mitsuhide's throat.

Then—

Nobunaga: "Ranmaru, bring it here."

Ranmaru: "Yes."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Without showing even a hint of confusion, Mitsuhide silently observed the events unfolding before him.

Ranmaru approached him, anger blazing in his eyes, and shoved a letter addressed to the Oda army into Mitsuhide's hands.

Ranmaru: "Read it, Lord Mitsuhide. I don't need to tell you whose handwriting it is, yeah?"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide: "Mai. Why?"

As if his soul had left him, Mitsuhide collapsed to his knees.

Standing beside him, Ranmaru trembled and clenched his fist tightly.

Ranmaru: "You're such an idiot! Both you and Lady Mai."

Ranmaru: "How could you shoulder everything alone and plan to disappear like that!?"

Unable to continue speaking, Ranmaru just stood there.

Beside him, Nobunaga quietly sheathed his sword, and the Oda warlords approached.

Masamune: "Throwing away your lives for each other… you two really are alike."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Hideyoshi: "I'll never forgive you. Not for raising your army, but for making Mai cry!"

Ieyasu: "Don't think you can get away with an easy punishment like being cut down."

Mitsunari: "There's work we expect you to carry out, even if it takes a lifetime."

Keiji: "Well, even if we didn't tell you, you'd probably do it on your own."

Nobunaga: "Leave, Mitsuhide. You're expelled from the Oda army permanently."

Mitsuhide: "Lord Nobunaga…"

Nobunaga: "Leave, and do what you must."

Nobunaga: "Even if it takes the rest of your life, find Mai."

Mitsuhide: "............"

Life slowly returned to Mitsuhide's eyes.

Ranmaru: "There's one more letter. It's from Lady Mai."

The letter contained only a single sentence.

Mitsuhide: "............"

Clutching the letter to his chest, Mitsuhide sank further to his knees, his face hidden from everyone.

Masamune: "That girl isn't the kind to throw away her life so easily."

Masamune: "Even if she becomes invisible to everyone, she'll keep on living, as long as her sanity holds."

Keiji: "That sounds like a living hell to me."

Mitsuhide: "No, I won't let it come to that."

Masamune and Keiji: "!?"

Mitsuhide lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes reflecting both endless despair and a glimmer of hope.

Mitsuhide: "If she's going to hell, then I'm going with her."

That night, news quickly spread throughout Japan that Mitsuhide had been killed and his rebel army had fallen apart.

Motonari: "Tch. Your prediction came true. How boring."

Kicho: "Don't complain. If that's how it is, we'll simply move on to the next step."

Motonari: "Hurry it up, then. I'd really prefer not to be bored to death the second time."

Motonari: "So? What happened to the mastermind who hijacked our plans?"

Kicho: "They haven't found Mitsuhide's head."

Motonari: "Being ripped apart in battle and disappearing without a trace? That's such a boring way to end, don't you think?"

Kicho: "There's no need to worry."

Kicho: "He's a man who treats others and even himself as mere pawns, but he wouldn't throw his life away for nothing."

Kicho: "Where he's gone, though, is anyone's guess."

And so, the seasons passed.

Mitsuhide: "The sun's coming out."

Watching the drifting clouds fade into the distance, Mitsuhide, dressed as a traveling performer, reached into his belongings and pulled out a bamboo flask, taking a small sip of water.

He closed his eyes and listened, just as he once did when he traveled with Mai.

Now, he was alone, searching for the sound of the bell that must still be ringing somewhere in this world.

Mitsuhide: "............"

He opened his eyes and smiled bitterly without meaning to.

No matter how many times he looked back or how many years had passed, the memories of the days they spent together never faded.

If anything, they had grown more vivid, deepening the emotions that continued to well up within him.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

The name he'd said so many times on his journey slipped from his lips again today.

His only clue, the faint sound of a bell, led him on an endless search with no clear end in sight.

Mitsuhide reached into his robe, pulled out a letter, and carefully unfolded it in the sunlight.

He traced the familiar handwriting, achingly nostalgic, as he reread the letter for the umpteenth time.

The letter contained only a single line:

Mitsuhide, you're my light.

Mitsuhide: "You truly were an incredible teacher."

Mitsuhide: "You dragged out every emotion I had locked away just like this."

Mitsuhide: "Thanks to you, even traveling alone has been anything but dull."

The wound of their parting still bled, still brought him searing pain, yet, even that pain had become precious to him.

Mitsuhide: "What am I supposed to do, Mai?"

Mitsuhide: "The joy, the sorrow, the fear—I don't think I can let go of any of it now."

Even now, Mitsuhide clung to the memory of that happiness.

Ring

Mitsuhide: "............"

Mitsuhide looked around and a cool breeze rustled the grass and flowers.

Mitsuhide: "Are you there?"

Ring

The bell chimed softly.

Mitsuhide: "............"

He reached out his arm, grasping at the air.

It was as though he was trying to embrace the entire world—a world where Mai still existed.

Mitsuhide: "Mai."

He'd decided to chase her endlessly.

He'd decided to believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that Mai was alive somewhere in this world—even if he could no longer see her, hear her voice, or touch her.

He chose not to despair. He chose the hope that burned like hellfire.

Mitsuhide: "............"

The sound of the bell quickly faded away along with the wind.

Mitsuhide: "A game of tag, huh? Fine by me."

Mitsuhide: "I'll catch you without fail."

Mitsuhide: "I'll spend my life saving you."

Mitsuhide: "Mai. You are, without a doubt, my light."

And so, Mitsuhide began walking again under the gentle sunlight with a genuine smile on his face.

🦊 Previous Part

[alchemistdoctor]

Tim starts off stiff, assuming he's just been kidnapped, but these two are chatting with him like they know him, and not in the Harley Quinn "I talk to everyone like this" way.

And then there is a giant. Fucking. Werewolf.

"Uh, nice to, um. Meet. See? You?" he tries, flustered and stuttering more than usual because he is being sniffed. Being sniffed is weird. Especially when done this intently.

"Ĉi tiu ne Danny," the wolf growls, and the boy beside Tim stiffens. Tim sighs, holding both his hands up.

"Jen kio mi prov dir al ili!"

Danny searches the whole alley before yelping when a shadow drops down behind him. He knows who it is - no ghost sense plus bat shaped shadow, in Gotham?

He rounds on the shadow, fists clenched. "What did you do to my friends?!"

Batman seems surprised at this. And oddly - hm. Danny thinks he may have died before, but in like, a distant way. Alternate time-line, maybe. It's enough for Danny to sense the lack of aggression, anyway, the way the intent-to-fight had immediately lessened upon seeing his face. "I did nothing. Your friends took another child with them. I was asked to find out what had happened and retrieve them."

Danny tastes desperation and love and family on the edges of his senses, and takes a really deep breath, lets it out slow. "Okay, I am gonna ask just one question. Please tell me I'm wrong, but." He straightens, meets Batman's mask. "Do I look like Robin?"

The emotions flickering through the alley make him groan. "Oh god. My friends stole Robin thinking he was me. Fuck. How does this happen?!" He throws his hands up in the air. "How the hell is my life the sort of life where my friends steal Robin on accident?!"

Batman radiates amused and indignant and an edge of panic, and Danny sighs, deflating. "Don't worry. My friends can keep a secret. So can I. And I'll help get him back, but first-" he holds up a finger. "You gotta take care of the anti-ecto acts. He won't be safe otherwise. He's been to the Infinite Realms, he's definitely exposed enough to be liminal at the least."

"Oh," says Batman, and Danny is confused at the tone before Batman's cowl makes some funny chittering sounds, and Danny realizes it's an initial. He panics for a moment, but the sounds are too high pitched to be a man on the comms. He can't help being tense, though.

The chittering goes on for a while. Danny waits as Batman radiates a series of faint emotions: impatience, horror, rage, determination. Finally he nods once. "Make a report to the League. I want Wonder Woman on this right away. Set up a meeting on the Watchtower."

Danny's eyes flash green with sudden excitement. "CAN I COME?" The question wasn't voluntary, it just happened. He squeaks and tries to explain, "I mean, I can answer questions? And I really really like space, like so much-"

Batman grunts and walks toward the alley entrance. Danny skitters after, excited.

Two minutes later, a portal tears open in the alley. A giant wolf-man steps through with three children. The goth girl shouts loudly, "DANNY!! DANNY!!"

The kid with a coffee steps forward, looking at something stuck to the alley wall, and slumps. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

[Bruce left a scratched sigil, just a calling card in case Tim came back, when he jumped from the roof. Tim is exasperated that everyone panicked this quickly- he was gone for FIFTEEN MINUTES, CALM DOWN, HE CAN HANDLE HIMSELF. Oracle is neck deep in AEA stuff so has not noticed their return. Wulf is sniffing. He can scent Danny. And someone who smells like angst and exhaustion.]

Mistakes Were Made

It's always Danny getting mistaken for a Wayne, and ends up getting dragged into the bats' lives. What if instead of that though Tim gets mistaken for Danny, and now has to deal with ghost stuff.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are in Gotham because Clockwork needs them to get something, talk to Lady Gotham, or whatever reason you want. While there though the three of them end up spilt up with plans to meet up in the alley behind a coffee shop nearby in a couple hours.

Coincidentally, that is the same time Tim likes to go and get himself some coffee from that very shop.

Sam and Tucker by this time have already arrived, and are just waiting on Danny when they see Tim walking past; whom they assume is Danny. The fact that Danny is seemingly wearing different clothes from when they last saw them doesn't even concern them at all. Their friend must have just needed a disguise for something. Obviously!

Tim takes a mental note when he hears people talking in the alley, but when a voice happily calls out to someone named "Danny" he doesn't pay it anymore mind. He has a coffee that's not going to order itself after all.

The voice calls out to this Danny person once more, and the voice is much closer to him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him he stops and looks back only for a teen around his age wearing a red hat to grab his arm. The stranger is talking at him a mile a minute as he drags them back into the alley where a goth girl is waiting. A small glowing marble sits in her hand.

To help Sam, Tucker, and Danny get back to Infinite Realms, Clockwork gave them something that would open a portal wherever they are. All they need to do is throw it onto a large surface, and a portal will appear for a few seconds; enough time for all of them to enter it.

"It's about time you show up, Danny!" The girl says while looking directly at him.

Tim doesn't even have any time to react before she is throwing the glowing marble at the brick wall, and a bright green, Lazarus green, portal opens up and he is being pushed inside of it.

Just as the portal disappears behind the three of them Danny comes rushing into the alley only to see no one there, and that immediately worries him because while Tucker might have been late as well; Sam wouldn't have been.

Meanwhile, Barbara is panicking because every single tracker and electrical device on Tim has simultaneously disconnected. She knows Tim likes to frequent a certain coffee shop at this time, and pulls up all the security cameras with the building in view.

She doesn’t like what she finds, and she assumes the blurry figure that enters and exits the alley soon after will have some more concrete answers for what happened to Tim.